I woke to the spine’s sharp dull ache

I woke to the spine’s sharp dull ache,

stacked stones pressed under skin,

ribs flaring, vertebrae rigid and raw.

The cracked motel mattress held me

like a trap,

a lumpy bed of broken promises

and yesterday’s regrets.

Each bone a harsh line against the thin sheet,

a crooked backbone trying to hold

the weight of a too-heavy night.

I breathe slow, feeling the stack

pressing, relentless,

until I slip between the cracks

of memory and waking.