Thoughts at 3AM

I am a coiled ghost of snake skin
A coat worn by the quiet monster that slithers its way over the top of your quilt, beneath the cloud of guilt you sleep beneath. 
Or within. 
Within the flume of "please let me forget you. I blame myself. It was me. It was me. I shouldn't have pissed you off like that.. Oh no, I'm feeling woozy again, baby will you pass me that little spoon? I need to.."
Boil. 
Me down to clean and pure, a bubbling pot of freedom and translucent innocence, I never thought I could feel so...
"high! Baby you're too high up! Get down. The neighbors will see. They'll wake up. Oh no, please don't get mad, please sweetie, we can just go back and make some more.."
Love. 
A prescription filled daily, I could never look myself in the eyes, but I swear to god when the blues were playing in the diner that one winter night, it's usual burning lights that turned me to stone,
Only melted me into a soft and tired bag of bones. 
I was nothing but a relaxed mixture of 
"movies. I'll just tell her I'm going to the movies and sleeping at a friends. No, she won't find out. Will you just have some fucking faith in..."
Me. 
Was a word I relieved from my vocabulary I was her. 
A set of eyes and hands that operated on a mechanical submission of true and false answers.
Skin like a scantron
I failed every...
"test. A drug test ? You fuckin' kidding me ? No, I won't piss in a cup for you. What am I to you, a .."
Child. I was just a child.
Who knew such a small amount of time could be equal to such a big front door.
Slammed shut so many times,
Shut on every season, kicking down the renewed offerings of daylight, trying to rise up, but I can't...
"reach. 
The broom! Or that book! Something! There's a fucking snake in my bed".