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Evasive

A soft yellow shine awaken my eyelids. Between closed to spacious glimpses the world flashes to my eyes. New images glimpse in my eyes as they begin to bring familiarity into my fuzzy mind. My eyes fluttering with the wings of butterflies, my body lies still frozen in angst. The possibility of the evasive sleep caught in one hand. All contradictions began to play against me, new morning dew floating from the earth into my window, making promises of a beautiful day to me. The birds and little creatures outside my door call me with their playful chirps, begging me to rise.

I slid my fingers through the waves of the silky blanket. Burying my face into the mountain of fluff stuck inside the cotton case. The smell of lavender rising into my nose causing the memories I had forgotten to rise along with it. My muscles began to scream with angst, “Stretch us stretch us!” Their pleas waking my mind past the drunken sleep it was still enveloped in. Sobriety rushing to my brain the shocking waves surging to electricity. My body urging me to move, while my mind full of memories urging me to stay and dream some more. I guess the bed felt left out because it began to apply itself in the argument as well. The bed tried to persuade me to stay a little longer with its warming heat and seeping gentleness. My minds takes in all the suggestions, sorting out the choices, there are so many choices.

The soft yellow gleam began to shade into a harsh yellow of the sun’s full consciousness now, ushering me to wake up as well. The light shining exuberantly, displaying the objects of my life, all whispering comforts across the room. Whispers telling me to lie in bed forever never rise, to never leave them. My body lie there listening to all the objections of the outside world, wanting me there, while the responses of the inside world begging me to stay inside with them. Which world was right? Was there and in between? Couldn’t I just shut my brain off? Was relaxation just another fading memory now?

The morning dew had become dry grass wafting through my portal, seeping through my walls. Worried by all the arguing, I hadn’t even acknowledged the scratch that was growing every second in my throat, desperately calling for the water bottle on my nightstand. The dried saliva and last night’s mouthwash rang in my taste buds. My throats wishes not fulfilled, my body wouldn’t move, still afraid that sleep would just become another memory, crumbling to dust and floating away like so many others.

Hoping the possibility of sleep might still evade me, I clung to the idea, abolishing the possibility of it becoming a memory. Wanting to waft into la la land, but wanting to rise up and play in the newly sprouted world, both sides pulling my arms, were my limbs now going to be torn off? Was sleep just a hope while the day outside being a reality?

Now I stopped listening to the sounds around me, they were no longer melodious pleas they were heart wrenching screams. No more little begging from the birds to play; now they were on with their lives. Everything seemed to be rushing forward, making my mind finally stop to reason. Maybe I should just rise, would it just be better. So I began to accept the outside world’s invitation.





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