Sleep instead

I've almost grown
but I am owned
By murky, dangerous pangs;
In inches that I've yet to gain,
there's room enough to hang.

The straws I draw
are eigengrau,
and leave us little hope.
So if it comes,
(and god forbid)
the family must cope.

An empty house,
our empty sobs,
have room enough
for what would rob
my family of a wretch.
Then when they'd cry
the mass would try
to dig me out of bed.

And though I love them toe to head,
I want to sleep instead.
I want to sleep instead.