3 result(s) for Waking Up Sweaty Poems.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
Battlefield of Linen
I wake to a war fought in the night,
My sheets are soaked in a clammy fight.
The pillow sags, a drowned old friend,
And every fold is a trench I defend.
The fitted sheet has torn its seams,
Like soldiers flung from waking dreams.
The blanket lies in a tangled heap,
A fallen flag where restless sleepers creep.
I rise, I peel the cotton free,
And count the damp of my own sea.
The morning air, a cool retreat,
Drys out the ruins at my feet.
Damp Sheets, Restless Hours
I wake to sheets that cling like tide,
A chill of sweat along my spine,
The dark still hums with dreams that hide
What fears I carried into time.
The fan spins slow, a tired breath,
While shadows pool beside my bed,
And whispers rise from nightmare's depth,
Disturbed and tangled in my head.
I press my palm against my chest,
Feel heartbeats gallop, wild and loud,
Until the dreams, at last, find rest,
And I drift back beneath the cloud.
Pillow Tide
I surface from the dark, undone,
the sheets like seaweed wrapped around my limbs.
Last night's visions still cling, half-spun:
a house that breathed, a river made of hymns.
The pillow holds a salt-stained map,
each hollow shaped by burning hours.
My heart still beats a feverish tap
against the ribs of my sleeping towers.
I peel the cotton from my skin
like a sail lowered after a storm,
and watch the dawn creep softly in,
cool and gray, to take the fever's form.
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