The swing

some nights

I am the sun—

burning too bright

to sleep

laughing with the stars

like I own the sky.

and then

the light cuts out.

I crash

into the dark

with all the weight

of who I was

just yesterday.

they call it

a wave.

but it feels more

like a war

between the girl

who can do everything

and the one

who can’t get out of bed.

and I

am stuck

in between

the swing.