I stare up to my ceiling,
My head in a pink cloud.
Waiting for my body to go numb.
Watching, waiting... gazing
Funny how the design on my ceiling looks like
Thousands of long-playing albums
Just scattered there.
Watching, waiting... for them to fall
Upon my weary head.
Shatter on the floor,
The bed...
My skull.
The pain!
I shudder at the thought.
"Why me?" I ask myself.
"Why not!" I reply.
"Because you are here!" a voice whispers.
My dream has begun.
Forgetting the pain,
Ignoring the cloud,
Slipping into unconsciousness.
My only recollection is of the dream...
Of her.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.


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