Sunday Night Thoughts

It was a another Sunday night,
Alone and in a fright,
The Soul recapturing the light,
Although it's neck is tight.

My apartment is alarmingly quiet,
As if from some internal riot,
Living alone, don't try it,
It's exhausting, this hidden feminine diet.

It is too nice to go bed,
Yet homework lullabys me instead,
Coffee I repeatedly wed,
To enshrine the dead.

Must get to another assignment,
To free myself of this confinement,
Or else I'm just miming it,
Once again, silencing it.

Goodnight.