50. upper bunk beds

I am scared of sleeping on upper bunk beds,

studio couches or red bean bags,
since the last time I slept on in one with you,
still haunts me like I must have for sure sinned,
but I only once kissed, you wanted it too?
replaceable albeit highly unlikely night,
good guessing game's too dangerous to be played this time,
so in the morning bid me adieu with a guilty goodbye,
tell me only if you see heaven, kiss my neck screaming

I am scared of sleeping on upper bunk beds,
I tend to fall on the ground,
in the sheets you leave me alone in,
sweet stench of failure stinks all of us around,
seems like you make me vulnerable,
I come from a broken place hence I make broken homes,
once a sailor, I fail to keep this wave,
writing letters I can't send to lovers I heave,
I put my fire out to this ocean, so go find happiness once I leave.

I am scared of sleeping on high grounds,
afraid to stare at ceilings on endless streak of nights,
yet to come the times of war, never forget our mundane spites,
ceaseless lasting loneliness, casting hollow light,
cost myself, cause me my unforgettable nights,
keep your head on a pillow up my thigh, I'm reading Shakespeare love sonnets,

but my lover too unaware to know what even love means,
if he just held my hand to get rid of me,
while I stare at the sky to different heights,

thinking if he'd ever regret it,
scared to look down from these upper bunk beds,
to look back to what we've been, I'm scared.