The first time sleep betrayed me was when I was 6.
I had a nightmare that even now still haunts me.
My aunt, for my mother was to me a locked character in a fighting game -unknown and unidentified, was leading me by the hand in what seemed to be the end of the world.
We were running.
I could tell I was slowing her down, yet my desire to live was at its strongest at the time.
I did not want to let go.
I held on for dear life.
Unfortunately my feet got stuck.
She kept running and running.
Not once looking back.
I turn to my left and see a wrecking ball swing toward me.
For most people the dream ends before the impact.
Not for me.
I'd rather leave it at that.I didn't blame my aunt of course, but I still didn't hold her hand after that.
It's the start of a lot of the reasons why I'm so fucked.The next was when I was 12.
I had a dream of a women.
She was beautiful.
I never saw her face, I just knew it.
Her face was covered by a white vail similar to a bride's who I assume was mine.
She had smile that made everything worth it.
Something must of happened because she laughed.
I wish I could have recorded it so I could play it on repeat to get me out of every terrible mood I've ever been in.
I took her hand and kissed it.
She had letters on her hand written in cursive.
I've forgotten what they were.
Before we kissed I was awoken by a loud bang.
I've forgotten what caused it.The rest of the day felt heavy.
Well, heavier than most.
I wanted to go back to that dream world. where everything was perfect even if it was just practice.
I haven't been there since.
The worst are dreams about my loved ones.
Once I had a dream about this friend of mine who I was madly in love with. I don't know if really is "was". I've told her about these dreams before. Some were dreams reliving fond memories we share. Some were fantasies. Rated R fantasies... I haven't told her this one however.
She was sitting on the side of a cliff. She wore a dark blue dress that dazzled in the moon light. I sat down next to her. Both of our feet were hanging off the precipice. Not word was said or if there was I didn't hear it. I was too focused on the cliff. It was an abyss. A beast with it jaws open and ready to accpet anything I was willing to give it. I was ready to give it everything I had. Just I gained the courage to jump and began to feel my body become weightless.
I saw her already in mid fall. I froze. Knowing something must be wrong looked to my right and left to see if she was still there. She wasn't. I was alone. Only thing I wanted was gone. I just sat there. Couping with her scarifice for me. Realizing what a fool I've been. Soaking in my sorrow I do the only thing I feel is rational.
I jump in after her.
Not ready to lose the last thing that kept me whole.
This was awhile ago. Now we occasionally have quick conversations about nothing and everything.
I assume some things are best left unsaid.
My battle with sleep is everlasting. With coffee, facebook, and theories being my only weapons to battle it.
Some nights it stays a stranger, letting it self exist without meddling with my dreams. Some nights it's its own bogeyman stomping its way into my head. Unfortunately sleep is a drug. Which is to say if I suffer the effects of withdrawal for to long I will surely die.
However sleep and I have cooperated. Some nights sleep is my only friend. The only one to confront me after a long day undresses into night. Nights where I dream of futures, of family, of love. When my dreams can be anything I want them to be.
That has to be the greatest gift I have ever given myself.
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A Boy And His Box
PoesiaHey! This is my first time doing something like this so sorry if I suck. This is going to be a book mostly filled with poems I write. I'm going to do other things with later ,so of you don't like poetry stick around for some adventures. This book is...