An ode to my bed partner

Rahul S
2 min readApr 10, 2020

Makes loves to me. Keeps me awake
and very much tired — that’s all the
fucking I am getting for centuries.

A scene from “Fight Club (1999)”

My bed partner continues to roll up
its leaves up into my anus; and around
my eyes — like the tendrils of a money
plant wiggling its leaves around
a branch or the planks of windows.

It berates me. It sucks up
something from me. Caresses me.
Makes loves to me. Keeps me awake
and very much tired — that’s all the
fucking I am getting for centuries.

Now my eyes are tired. And my phone
is tired, of being touched by my fingers.
The world is tired of snooping into
my life; and yet nothing I have. Except
for an outward look of decency.

Inside me,
tendrils of insomnia are pumping
and dumping their death
inflicting sperms — loaded cum

inside my many selves. Like
immortal children of immortal death.
Born out of my bed-partner,
Insomnia.

Context: One of the biggest issues I face as a kidney transplant recipient is my insomnia. Due to steroids, I tend to sleep very light. So if I wake up even by accident, I am totally unable to go to sleep. Then there are meds like MMF (Mycophenolate Mofetil) which trigger Insomnia. And there are the timings of the medicine: 5 times a day, throughout the day. And I cannot miss a dose, so even if I happen to awake, say, one hour before dose timing, I would have to keep myself awake till that time.

Because of these reasons, there are days when I can’t sleep. Like NILL. No sleep. Experiments show that after heart-attack, insomnia is the biggest reason for mortality rate in transplant cases.

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