March 14, 2010
The smoke of last night’s dreams still
Lingers around my pillow.
My cheek is imprinted with the creases of the sheets
Gathered tightly around my body –
Now shivering cold, now burning with fever.
Coughing to clear my lungs from the
Suffocating remnants of yesterday’s tears.
My headphones cord tightens around my neck
As I turn towards the wall –
I fell asleep to the familiar lullabies
Of pain, healing, loss, and redemption –
My dreaming mind, to make a point of sadistic irony,
Dismissed the messages of comfort and love,
Summoning for fears and monsters and
Merciless tales of doom, regret, and tragedy.
But the afternoon light streams through
The trinity of windows and casts an inviting glow
Across the cold wall upon which I press my feet, listlessly –
Thinking of yesterday and wishing for tomorrow.
I trace my finger along the wall in a language
Only I know, and do not care to speak of,
Then count the freckles on my arms.
In a place between asleep and awake,
In a state where dreams and reality intertwine
And fight for dominance in my brain,
In a place where only I can go, where I am alone,
I live a myriad of lives patched together from memories,
And tell myself stories that become dreams,
That melt into mere emotion to be circulated
Through my bloodstream like a drug –
But I’m not allowed to bleed it out.
So I lie here, and drift to sleep, and drift to wake,
In and out, light and dark, real and make-believe.
I am falling. Now I am flying. Running. Now still.
Thoughts dance the maddening dance and collapse into silence –
Jolted to motion again by the sudden beat of my pounding heart.
Future, past, present, now past again – No, present only.
I am here and that is all I need to know.
There is nothing else for me today.
The puzzle, the problem, will not be unlocked this way.
My muddled mind cannot touch your words.
I have no strength to hold it, carry it, examine it –
Too heavy, too heavy, it slips from my fingers.
So I lie here, exhausted, in the smoky of haze of dreams.
This is my reality today. This and none else.
I cover my head and bury myself in my sanctuary of
Sheets and shadows and pillow creases.
The truth will have to wait until tomorrow.
Tomorrow I wake up.
But not today.