Tuesdays...
10/7/03 02:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alasanonRemain within you for always, touching you with icy gentle fingers when you aren't thinking of the right answers to the questions you ask.
I'm awake only in the dimmest sense right now. The dreams I've been having lately have been more click-reality than reality lately. I spent yesterday sipping from the cup of personal darkness, drinking in words and feelings and then exulting in the silence that covered the world as soon as the rain began.
I don't want to go back to bed yet.
I was asleep, for a while, but then I woke up and realized that I didn't want to sleep anymore, and that I had better remember to eat something before all the food became too cold to be appetizing. Naturally it all had gone long past that point by the time I staggered to the kitchen to find what was left.
Your breathing disturbs me from miles away. It sounds like there is something heavy on your chest, wringing your lungs out with every troubled breath. There may be claws stuck in your throat, wriggling fit to unleash your blood in a small river all over your pillows, or a small creature with eyes like knives and skin like yesterday's dirty cardboard that wants to steal your soul. I don't know, and I am too far away to help. I can't see you, but I can still hear your breathing.
I'm awake only in the dimmest sense right now. The dreams I've been having lately have been more click-reality than reality lately. I spent yesterday sipping from the cup of personal darkness, drinking in words and feelings and then exulting in the silence that covered the world as soon as the rain began.
I don't want to go back to bed yet.
I was asleep, for a while, but then I woke up and realized that I didn't want to sleep anymore, and that I had better remember to eat something before all the food became too cold to be appetizing. Naturally it all had gone long past that point by the time I staggered to the kitchen to find what was left.
Your breathing disturbs me from miles away. It sounds like there is something heavy on your chest, wringing your lungs out with every troubled breath. There may be claws stuck in your throat, wriggling fit to unleash your blood in a small river all over your pillows, or a small creature with eyes like knives and skin like yesterday's dirty cardboard that wants to steal your soul. I don't know, and I am too far away to help. I can't see you, but I can still hear your breathing.
