hypnos 

i filled my dresser with snakes
at the old apartment. i was lonely
& snakes were the only thing
that would come to mind.
i had no one to be or do 
& yet i could still never sleep.
i stayed up all night. put my mouth
to the shower drain & tried to talk to
octopi who might feel empty too.
once, in a pleading let-me-sleep fit
i sacrified a cave cricket. the cricket 
turned instantly into a telephone
& it rang like mad. i knew
if i picked it up my whole family's ghosts
would be on the other line.
you should be wary that ghosts can come
even when someone isn't dead.
i have seen my own ghosts. 
they creaked floor boards &
turned the television on. they ate
the bread i baked on the equinox. 
upstairs, my neighbors spit at each other.
the snakes, still snakes, would sometimes
stop moving & just be shoe laces.
i wept at the snakes & begged them
to not tease me. i craved their company.
their writhing. they feed off my stray eyes
that wandered in the dark as mice.
at night there are no gods. when i left
the apartment i didn't want
to open the drawers. instead, i lugged
the whole dresser to the cub. 
i kissed each handle. i said,
"goodbye snakes." the snakes said,
"you are a coward." in that moment
they were right. i could not even
take apart that life. i left it. a severed limb.
do you know how many times
i have done this? shedding everything i can.
my car, a getaway car. a ghost there
standing on the ceiling. smell of mildew.
my socks lodged still in the guts
of the dryer. you can never go back.