That’s the dream team
Lenny by Lennie
Sleep came, in two-hour spurts.
The backlight in my brain, glowing red, with every reawakening.
Listen, “Patient,” my phone is not a nurse’s call-button.
I know it isn’t your fault. But
You seem to think it mine.
You think I “don’t have a choice.” You
Need help, so you’ll get it.
Someone saddled with the
Burden of choice must remember
How heavy weighs the guilt
I haven’t left your side, so
Why are you still yelling?