adjust

no longer footed in adolescence, no
longer able to claim teenage rebellion and
call it my own, I struggle with naming the behaviors that
keep me up at night, teasing the midnight clock and
wake me with guilt in the morning, a
sense that resides in my bones that was dormant since
darker days. I don’t sleep anymore. trying to
ignore the car alarms and the continuous sirens that call attention to
the dark, barking at the night, trying to remember the calm —
the chirping of the birds, perched on trees, the flutter of my heart, how
quiet the voices, how dark the night, how ink-stained the fingers that
turn newspapers, how quiet the night that speaks to no one, how the
dawn rises to bring another day.