my eyelids are magnets. If i were to say i were falling asleep i'd be lying, because i'm in bed and can barely move. The music is the only thing keeping me awake. I need it to decompress. It massages the tension in my soul, loosening the knots. If i could tie as good as i could twist i'd make more sense. Everything hurts. The lines around my eyes are racing across my face and my joints are cast iron. I would break if i took a break. I could swim the ocean to avoid the lake. I could do so many things if my mind wasn't a water bubble in my spine. I can't bend. I have been absorbed by the feathers in my mattress. Quicksand, sinking me to slumber. Repose is my first glance at peace. My body is a ghost swimming in bed sheets.
I can't stop twisting my beard. It's my new security blanket, i guess. It's like running the back of my hand across fresh cut grass. It feels like wheat. I couldn't date a girl with celiac disease because if she kisses me and accidently ingests part of my wheat beard she would have an attack. I haven't been trained to deal with such attacks so i'd probably just leave her to die.
Sometimes, when my sadness is really strong i can physically feel it. I feel the butterflies dropping dead inside from bad trips on stomach acid. I feel the tears being ripped from the corners of my eyes because i dared peek into the corner of my mind. I saw love. It was so far from me. A place i couldn't reach because my arms are planted at my sides like roots in a flower bed. My sheets are gray. My pillow is a head case so i rest upon it. The blinks get longer, but i'm a conscious driver. My mind is a fading signal as the eyelids sink into ocean's bed. On the ocean floor i brought the sandman a dream.
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