going to bed earlier

by ten
my toes must hide under the covers,
my pillows must be arranged,
one for my arms, one for my legs,one for my head
i must be old.
at ten, a few pages can be turned,
perhaps a boring podcast or relaxing music.
at ten fifteen, the covers should be warm and
my body ready to sleep
my mind in shut down,
no, not ten thirty do I rush down the stairs,
or eleven, when I sneak quietly down to
a quiet room, my loved one breathing quietly,
only to stir and scold.
I slip into bed.
earlier tomorrow
I promise.