I’m afraid of never waking up,

Of the voice that calls to me every time the morning light breaks through the dusted blinds.

The soft comforting cold air sneaking through the window to hold me like a child.

Never wake up.

What’s the point it tells me,

You are nothing.

Never wake up.

The sheets cling to my ever tightening chest,

The air thins even more as the comforting cold numbs my face down to the last nerve.

Never wake up.

The sheets are safe,

They’re your prison to hide behind and love and hate and just settle in.

Never wake up.

Because in the morning all you’ll feel is the aches and the clinking snaps of your bones,

The congestion blocking your breath your beating blood flushing your face.

Never wake up.

Because you’re afraid you’ll never actually wake up,

You’re afraid that you’ll never see,

Smell,

Taste,

Touch,

Think.

Wake up.

Says another voice,

The voice that tells me I’m, fine.

Wake up it says.

Wake up so you can be kissed back to sleep,

So you can feel in that one moment more life and calm again and again and again.

© 2016 Jared “I.J” Steinberg. All Rights Reserved.

#poetry