phd before a child

this morning, when i woke up
time had turned back
the year now 2019
time: 8 am
no alarm clocks
a night of fitful sleep

because 
i did not spend it
placating a crying child 
that nightmares are not real
removing his elbows 
that dig into my back
that monsters are only real 
if i say so
or the cough that seems to last
an eternity

breakfast when i want to eat
alone
without someone touching my face
a finger up my nose to test
where my nose ‘ends’ 
or the multitudes of 
‘knock knock’

in 2019, which is now
my chai never gets cold
i look at the trees outside
giving in to the bird songs
surrounding me
closing my eyes 
drifting into oblivion
for 5- or 10- or 15- minutes

no rush for school drop-off
no rush to remind 
instead, thinking about my writing
my library, my books
and the endless hours that stretch ahead of me

because work 
in 2019, which is now 
it can end when i want it to
submersing myself into 
knowledge
stretching it until it threatens
to rip
and then letting it go
until it’s shape shifts
without any guilt

no alarm for 2:30 pm
for school pick-up 
and ongoing ‘what’, ‘why’, ‘mama’
an effort in mutiny
until 7:30 pm 

instead, at 5 pm
as i sit with another cup of chai
i am not exhausted
yet i have all these hours ahead of me
to do more,
to think, reflect, write

to read more
and i gamble
sometimes
when i do not sleep until 2 am
still stretching the seams of 
my mind
testing knowledge
diving into the deepest parts of 
it, of 
me 

without fear 
of an interrupted sleep
a friend joked
if the year indeed was 2019
i would have done two phds
no elbows digging into my back

it is true
my mind even sharper
yet also more morose
and maybe 
i would cease to exist
chasing after knowledge
trying to make sense of 
my mind
my tail

the chai cold and bitter
deaf to the bird songs
the world collapsing 
inside me

but the year is not 2019

and i am less morose
and still alive
because the elbows that dig 
into my back, at night
also, nudge my mind 
if it drifts too far away 
into darkness

to come back 
from the pit of my own making

and maybe i am not meant 
to submerse into 
and stretch knowledge 
until it threatens to rip

but maybe someone else is

someone
whose elbows dig 
into my back

and soon it will be 2:30 pm 
and secretly, i welcome the distraction 
until 7:30 pm