itsonlywhenyouwakeupthatyourealizeyourestillasleep
It was one of those frustration-filled nights. The kind where she had to swallow thirty tiny, white pills before she could even think about sleeping. Where she tossed and tossed in a lucid notquitedreamlike state, as her thoughts spiraled in a million different directions.
Slowly she began to feel herself sinking. Evaporating.
Her heartbeats began to slow, and she could feel the night setting into her bones.
It took all of the strength she could muster to smile, but she did it. Knowingly.
You see, she understood that she was dying. She welcomed it.
(And I think that for a moment death lingered in her. Making her its prey.)
But then red and orange light poured into her eyes, blinding her. Driving her out of the night. And she awoke to them standing over her. "We almost lost you, darling." They said, with concern-filled voices.
Only they didn't realize that they had. They'd lost her ..without ever really having her.
She began to crave the nothingness she had felt when her life had ended.
The blankness of it all.
She belonged to that darkness. It was her home.
So she began to live in the moon. Afraid of blue skies and sunny smiles.
Of course, you would never notice if you weren't paying attention. She laughed when it was appropriate, and nodded her head at the proper times. But her thoughts were always filled with anger and secret hells. When you looked into her black eyes, there was only a dull reflection. A waivering girl.
She was dead inside.
She was simply not there.
(But maybe she never truly had been.)