the other side

on the other side

of my bedroom wall

there lives a mouse

who loves to crawl

he scritches and scratches

when i'm trying to sleep

but stays silent as bones

when i'm trying to weep.

he gives me no comfort,

he brings me no joy

but he's always been here

my little rodent boy.

and one day as my body expires

i'm sure i'll hear him coming

his whiskers like wires.

"death is not parting us"

he'll say with a grin

"i will always be here with you,

burrowed under your skin."

and he keeps scritching and scratching,

gnawing at my bones

and i still can't go

to sleep.