10:08 AM - Psychobabble
I must be crazy. This clausterphobic sunrise. Sleep is peace. Sleep is escape. Except when you dream. But when you dream it is your reality. And she is always in it. And when I see her, she is mine, just like she has always been. She smiles her big beautiful smile and her blue eyes sparkle. It's insane how much she loves me. And I walk around in my dreams with my head up. Like I have just won the lottery. I had it all.
Now I am boneless. My skin is filthy and all that is inside me is dust. I wander around like a ghost in the night. Telling people whatever I please. I'll do whatever I please. I've got an imaginary rope holding my head up above, like it used to hang on its own. When I take the rope down, my head falls off and rolls on the ground. It's an empty old bowl. Dusty from the years.
My hands are dirty with mistakes I've made. My eyes are pure grey and never changing. My iris' don't dance and sing in the light. They are perfectly still. I wander around from person to person, cocking my head as if they might have the answers I need to know. This confusion. How did I get so decrepid? How did I get this close to death?
But each person doesn't know what to say to me. They stare blankly back at me. They can't figure out who I am anymore. I know I don't belong here anymore, my dusty bowl replies to my sigh. So I'll walk up and over this hill. I'll climb to find someone just like me