cool tile

Tears descend, The tingling sensations reach the razor edge of pain I am confused The couch no longer offers comfort for whatever affliction I suffer from I try to speak but an unfamiliar noise comes out I begin to panic begging for the maternal to work whatever motherly magic the universe has bestowed upon her Nothing happens No one comes I manage to flop of my pillowed haven onto the cold hard ground I presume that the ground is cold and hard because I can no longer feel I crawl, like a wounded animal I crawl to wear I know I’ll be safe A familiar voice comes into my hearing He is panicking but I know he can make it better He and I have the same idea We always have the same ideas, since we were born He helps me get to my destination even though I have not verbally requested this place The cold chill of the tile greats my right cheek Applying enough relief for rest The room is dark I am young I know help will be here soon So I sleep And I cry Scared to death I hope my brother remembers to let my dog out