Left is Right

Left is Right 
(To Whomever Sleeps at Night)

Last year, I woke up
shattered of asking “on the right? 
Mom, where should I sleep?
On bed, are women always on the right?
What is wrong with the left?”

“On the right,
the right is meant to be.”

Sleep, a smiling death
shelters us every night. 
We rise back everyday.
Did you desire to be right?    

Is it difficult to survive on the left?
Did you wish for a side?
Does it matter where to rest? 
Or do I have to conceal my pride?

I'm coming back from the dead.

Every night the soul
leaves me to die.
In the morning, I'm alive again!
Let me try.

I'll conquer the middle
right, left, no lie!  
The night is young
I want to touch the other side.

With comfy edges 
the middle is fair.
I widen my gaze,
no foggy glare.

The right is blocked 
with the greatest wall,
a clear end,
barriers all and all.

The left is right! 
Mom, I know it's a cliff,
but with an in and out.
Try it … don't be stiff.

I slept on the left.
It's my bed.
Left feels right.
I woke up with a clear head.

Fallen from your womb
I know I'm a seed,
but sleeping is a right,
Let me have it where I need.