Four in the morning

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is how I feel at four in the morning anyway

Submitted: June 05, 2008

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Submitted: June 05, 2008

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It’s one of those nights where sleep won’t come.
In your mind, you’re tired. But your eyes are awake and staring – taking in every detail they can.
 
When the silence is as annoying as any loud ringing in your ears. So quiet it gives you a headache, and so the ipod is plugged in to take away the awkwardness that’s slowly becoming frightening.
 
When everything in your room – everything – books, bottles of tablets, piggy banks, photo frames – They all seem to sit with a silent unanimity that’s slightly eerie.
Stare at them long enough and your mind starts to play tricks.
 
When the colours grow brighter and brighter until they seem unrealistic, the lines blur and everything has no distinct shape. Sometimes, they move.
Just a little tremble – but again, it’s just your eyes playing tricks.
 
When you seem frozen in that same spot in your bed, because it feels o safe and warm. But still, you feel like you’re not really there.
 
When that same, blank spot on the wall seems to be the most fascinating thing in the world, and you stare at it in a stupor. With no reason to look at it, but then, no reason to look away either.
 
When your arms wrapped around your teddy bear don’t seem to move, and you cling into that one, small comfort with all the hope you can.
 
When your open wardrobe doors seem unnatural, and any moment you’re expecting anyone, anything – Paedophile, ghost, killer, loved one – to appear from behind them and to be so realistic to your touch.
 
When the lines on your posters become distinct, and you see everything as something in itself - a face, an eye, a cigarette – they all become their own distinct shape that takes up your whole mind.
 
When those memories you’d long since forgotten about come creeping back - pleasant and frightening.
Some we’d rather forget come back into our minds, and we fight to remove them, but they stay there – glued in by the emptiness of the moment.
 
When we ponder everything – The what ifs and the could haves.
You mull over regrets and victories – all of them a mere word in the thousands of chapters in your life.
 
When your life unfolds before you, and the sheer beauty and vastness of it takes your breath away, and exhausts you.
 
When you finally fall asleep.


© Copyright 2017 Anna Banana. All rights reserved.

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