The bed is hard, the covers made of sandpaper. The room humid, heat covers my body, sweat beads on my cheeks. I toss then turn, no position to my liking. Why is my body so picky, what makes you think your in a position to demand such accommodations?
I opened the window. A rush of cold air hits my damp face for a moment. Heat still surrounds my skin, trapping every pore until I throw my shirt to the floor, socks to the hamper, and blanket to the adjacent bed, nothing helps.
Thoughts are quick, confused and vivid. I closed my eyes. My problems on a small table, stacked high; getting higher. A face! I open my eyes. I don’t want to talk to her right now. She’s not allowed here, I need sleep, if she’s here we stay up talking.
I need drugs. I need warm milk. I need a bedtime story. I need to forget; I need to get away for a while. Could I sleep then? Where to go?
Put music on! Something nice, soothing. NOT THAT ONE! Too many memories tied to those notes. NO MUSIC. The lights are bright, they never sleep, and we have something in common then. Do they have the same problems as I. I need to sleep. Why? STOP THINKING, the bed hurts now, anything is better than sleep. Anything’s better than this place. Should I leave? Where? Too many questions, no answers; not here. Then where? 1 hour till the bell! Sleep! Maybe tomorrow…
No comments:
Post a Comment