Transmutation, Rose Mary Boehm

As long as I look at it
I can keep it at bay.

As long as I don’t give
in to my urgent desire
to leap out of bed
it won’t get me.

As long as my blanket
is pulled high, covering
my mouth, I’ll be safe.

Behind the headboard
something whispers. While
I listen it can’t move.

Darth Vader’s in the bathroom.
I can hear his breathing. I wish I was
angry enough to harness the force.

But yesterday I did some inhaling
behind the old factory and now
dark is more than the absence
of light. It’s the place where
guilt transforms
into dread.