Poetry from Ari Nystrom Rice

1:00 AM Light

I Lie.

Restless in bed.

Each time I feel my eyes droop, 

I am compelled

to watch the golden light beside my bed

fade away

each time I bundle up in blankets

only to realize the perfect seal

keeping the solitary 1am light

at bay is gone.

I fiddle with the strings

on my blinds

trying to replicate

the blinding comfort my bedside sun in a jar

had produced.

pushing the fidgeting engine beneath my skin

towards a moment to lie down

I whisper to myself to ignore

the ice plunging deep into my pupils

yet the pressure of the night

creates cracks in the walls

lines sewn across imperfect darkness.

suffocating in it

my night

I understand what it must be like

to be in a car crash

for time to expand

like the pupil of my eye

and yet I lay lonely.