Blue lips

Every day was the same from then on. It happened, I couldn’t change it. I tried a different outcome,  each walkthrough in my life. Each day I tried to be something more, feel something...different. But the outcome would always be the same. Always the same. Same as always.

 

 Waiting in the morning, have no need to leave the bed, but my alarm clock tells me otherwise. It use to be set for 7 to 8 every morning but over time, I’ve just shortened it till I finally put it to 5 minutes. I no longer hear the ringing anymore, it's just added to the white noise. My mind has grown accustomed to it. 

 

My mind has been up since 10:22 pm. It felt too early to go to sleep. It felt too early to go to sleep at all. So I waited till morning till it felt right, which it never did. Sleeping was a just a tasking chore to do now. To ease the grasp of rest, I hug my pillow. It feels so nice to have something close to you. If only it was a person. Yet the bed would be more crowded ...I think I could make the acception for it. It’s been a while since I’ve had any company.

 

But my pillows are enough for me. Pillows are great for holding, they are the only promises I can hold on to. The promise that I wouldn't be left alone in the morning. That it would stay by my side until I let it go to let me know I’m not a dream of my own existence. If only it was a person. Then I could add something new to the white noise. The only noise I can hear is my heart against the sewn feathers. It gives some warmth, but I’ve been keeping the warmth of the tears I shed, even last night they felt like hot kisses on my cheeks and chest.    

 

I remembered what happened last night, but it felt so far away like a dream. What were dreams like again? Was it like last night? I don’t know.

I can only recall so little at a time. Perhaps it was a dream, I’ve been told dreams are hard to remember.  All I remember was to avoid stepping on the glass beneath the bed frame

Unless I add more to the actions of last night

That old heart was just a dying flame

 

It was only a matter of time before it fell out of my sheets on to the floorboard. What was the use of having it if you no longer have the fuel to fan the highlights. It was weak and shattered. How did I last so long with it. It was so frail and small. I remember a person who held it. I can’t see their face. My tears and memories were so mixed up from my insomnia. I wonder if it was all a hallucination? Probably. I can’t recall the last time I felt someone’s touch.

 

Breathing was there and gone. I couldn’t breathe through the darkness so quickly. My pillow was my only touch of reality at the time. Everything was on fire, my chest, my cheeks, throat, and lungs. What did I swallow? It was so quick and sharp each breathe till I stopped. Everything stopped. I was so cold and wet in tear stains. What happened to the warmth in the air? Everything is so cold even right now. My flames were blue then smoke. The nightlight across from my bed was the only living soul in the room accompanying me. 

 

Those new feelings I asked for. I finally got them. But it was so weird. They were gone now. Where did they go? Or was that another hallucination. I don’t know. But I can see clearly now, my blue tears, hazel irises, the destruction and calmness that swirled inside. Who knew it would be like this? Blue was such a weird sensation. Maybe it will wear off in the morning. For now I’ll stare in the room, that was now a comforting blackhole

I waited on the scene that happened just a few minutes ago. I can’t recall the time now. All I remember was 10:22 pm.

 

Waiting in the morning, or at least I think it is. It’s still blue but brighter more timid. I have no need to leave the bed, but my alarm clock tells me otherwise. It use to be set for 7 to 8 every morning but over time, I’ve just shortened it till I finally put it to 5 minutes. I no longer hear the ringing anymore, it's just added to the white noise. My mind has grown accustomed to it. I don’t feel my body anymore, I’ve really tired myself out last night. My blue lips are still chapped but I’m no longer thirsty.

 

The thirst dried me out.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

weepingwillowtree

OMG, i honestly don't what to say except that this is incredible. i loved the repetition, and it felt like i was reading something that was written ether for or about me. i could relate to this so much. thank you for writing this. 

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