of loneliness 

music throbs

forehead–i listen

hoping pain will dissipate. 

a girl sings about a home 

we have yet to know, in

my dream i’m sitting, spinning 

out of control. a gust of wind 

no more than a group of grown

laughter wheels me out the door,

into a hospital’s hallway. people 

are rushing around me, curled up 

on the linoleum floor, sobbing for 

help. desperate (pleas)e, but an 

elementary school teacher only 

echoes, “I’ll pray for you.” between

my cries.

this sleeping medicine makes me want to sleep continuously, which I’m guessing is a good thing since I haven’t slept well in months. It also makes me want to do absolutely nothing. No music or being on the computer or my phone. It all makes my head hurt. But it also makes me have real wacky dreams, this one apparently telling me that my pain is funny to people and that I feel forgotten. I know it isn’t true, but I hate how real the dream felt. Which is probably why I randomly burst into tears this morning and asked God, “do you hate me?” into my pillow.

I’m going to try and eat now. Or fall back asleep.


3 thoughts on “of loneliness 

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