eight hours

and the endless hours of sleep that seem to swindle my aches and growing pains like i’m an unborn infant crying at birth. wrapped in hospital blankets like i'm their patient when i'm really their next victim. take down my date and time of birth and whisper sweet nothings about my special place on earth. hours pass and i'm being rocked to sleep, hoping i never have to wake up again. eight hours have never been enough, a lifetime sounds ideal. spending all my all-nighters listening to the voices speak in melodies and rhymes like they’re my gospel and sublime. having faith in god is never setting an alarm, let him do his work and decide when my body will arise.