Still standing beside myself.
Hanging upside down over the side of the bed, the blood rushing to my brain- I could stay here all afternoon. I don't have to make decisions when I'm between the sheets, breathing deeply, eyelids fluttering... or in this case, suspended inches above the floor, cheeks turning pink, the world swirling before my eyes. Johnny upside down. Dresser upside down. Mirror -and me- upside down.
Well... this is it: pull myself back up or pass out. The latter seems more appealing. But the odds are slim that someone will find my slumped, wrong-side-up figure anytime soon. To die would be a great adventure. My fingers tighten around the blankets and I pull myself back up. The sheets are cold again so I pull them over my head, inhaling fabric softener, wishing it was night again, imagining morning light projecting little shapes of color, through my sheets, across my face.
I will emerge from these blankets when I have completely transformed.
Well... this is it: pull myself back up or pass out. The latter seems more appealing. But the odds are slim that someone will find my slumped, wrong-side-up figure anytime soon. To die would be a great adventure. My fingers tighten around the blankets and I pull myself back up. The sheets are cold again so I pull them over my head, inhaling fabric softener, wishing it was night again, imagining morning light projecting little shapes of color, through my sheets, across my face.
I will emerge from these blankets when I have completely transformed.