Bedrock

this damn bedrocks
and not like the cradle I never had
it shakes
squeaks
and creaks
with movement
an old rusted bunk, painted over
in need of oil, then replacement!
I move as subtly as I can
as to not rock my bottom bunky into a deeper sleep
or a sudden awakened state
it’s the 4th and last bay
no walls separate us
seems like a shelter or high end concentration camp
each bay consisting of two rows of 7 bunks
28 x 4 is the amount of souls that I accompany in sleep
28 x 4 different sleeping patterns, states, sounds, and smells
28 x 4 haunted souls that dream and are caught by nightmares that catch up and accumulate all at once
28 x 4 different men rocking twisting turning and shake their bunks
28 x 4 different reasons to feel paranoid and be as vulnerable as a human can ever be in life
all them minus one of course
because I’m awake
and as I climb down from the wretched platform that grants me sight of every bay
even sight of my own demise if I happen to fall during my sleep
I rise to my knees slowly, crawling towards the edge
trying to make as less noise as possible
while I am still berated by the mixture of snores and stirs
I straddle over the end rail
me and my short legs
then grip tightly for leverage
holding onto something I rather let go and be rid of
story of my life right
slow does it, cuz I have to be mindful of everyone’s slumber
especially my bunky
and as I near ground, each of the four bars descended at a time
I hear an outburst
someone having a full conversation in their sleep
another uproar of snoring
another toss and turn
another shake quake and rock
and then I touch the prison floor
safely reaching rock bottom