For so long mornings occurred without you. No 
leveled up karma boss, no ready set money—you 
couldn’t get out of bed, true colors in a get it, get it 
hurricane. Your dreams were a sleeping body
beside you, back gently rising as queen light 
streaked through the shades. Battle on, the day chirped
from the hall. Play the game but break the rules. But 
the words didn’t land, you were both still asleep 
neither phoenix nor ash. Nighttime was your market 
without warriors, canyon of secret millions and 
nasty in different terms, so when you would later wake
for your actual beat, you did not luh-luh-love it. Regret
toured you. You left your dreams behind, wishing 
you could remain taken down, dead as a house
with no bells rung, no bags secured
in the escrow of being alive.