sleep

 

Last month I dragged my feet along a long corridor and saw what a blind man couldn't. When I tried to walk his shoes, my heart mended with envy. An hour of blindness only made me want more.

To take ten minutes to brush my teeth.

To understand the textures of my clothes, and be frustrated with how many I have, and how similar they feel. It no longer mattered how different they looked. They all had holes for the head and arms, they all covered whatever the world would demand be hidden, whatever, whyever, that battle I must stop fighting sometime. And when I was blind it made even less sense than usual.

When I finally opened my eyes, I wasn't as happy as I had imagined sight would be. Its just the same old world clouded and gray, infinitely demanding once its figured out I will pay. I want a little blindness, every day. Perhaps its just the novelty, still works. I won't struggle any more to darkness imprisoning me, I am chaos, I need a prison to understand.

to close your eyes
and take ten minutes
for nothing
is never ideal
in a job filled space
words, ideal career dream
called life

loss of freedom
its always a wolf
at the door, whine to howl,
one 'give up' away
one generation of shuteye

we don't stop counting
the ways to heaven
as we sit and wait
and meanwhile
someone else invented fate