I lay me down, and shut my eyes,
And as I drift off, a voice doth arise,
He speaks in riddles and iambic lines, and strangely enough it makes sense

and rhymes.

I tell him to quiet, to go to sleep,
And from him, I ought not here another peep,
But he dares continue and all I can do, is write it all down
And post it for you.

Silent and Dark
Not sure if I'm breathing,

Are my eyes open?...

No one else is here...
No one I can see.

      Darkness...
Nothing, but darkness,

No noises coming from elsewhere,
No noises coming from me...

Am I breathing?

I can't move to feel around...

Am I standing?

I try to sigh
To make a noise,
But I can't
I struggle and try to move,
But nothing happens...
My body tingles, but remains still...

I try to scream, but my mouth dares not utter,
As if thinks it ought not to.

Am I dying?
Am I already dead?

Try as I might, nothing happens...

     I am not dreaming...
     I know that I am awake
                And I am afraid...

Finally,
I sit up with a start,
Nearly screaming,
          Close to crying,
                   My body aching...
I've just escaped the terrible Grip,
That only by analogy,
              Can be described:

        Sleep Paralysis...
                 Is like
               Oblivion...

You take me out,
and pull my strings,
and for you, I do a bunch of things,

when you get bored you lock me up,
with the rest of your things, like your old firetruck.
I'm all alone
in this box
my home
and I want to be free
I want someone with me.

I want to be taken out
my happiest time, no doubt,
playing,
laughing at my antics,
it sure beats that box, and all its Lego bricks

take me with you wherever you go
and know
through it all
I'll be there when you fall
because
your my owner
and I'm your doll.

On a cold, wet night, I wander through the city streets. I walk by the buildings whose lights illuminate me, only briefly, until I pass them and am thrown into the darkness again before I realise it.
             It reminds me of my life: The buildings are my days; they pass without incident or delay and then the night comes stealing away my time.
                               The reoccuring alleyways are my weekends; I want to just run down them, laughing, splashing in the puddles, climbing the fence and jumping off. Discovering new things and adventuring...
                   And then I realise, I'm no longer a child; It's too late for my life to happen... I've blown it off, going to school, college, getting a job, working hours on end. I've wasted my life trying to get a life. Even the holidays are just other days now. And then I go to bed, exhausted, with nothing to look forward to, but doing it again tomorrow...
                The alleyway ends... and the lights from the buildings illuminate me, again...

Sitting in the class...
The sterile, white, quiet, blank classroom...
Somehow it reminds me of home...
The wind;
It blows through the grass transforming it into an endless green sea...
The slow herds of sheep;
They bleat contently grazing and playing, care free under the watchful eyes of their Shepherd...
The river;
It flows through the valley, winding, turning, writhing like a snake, stalking an unsuspecting prey...
The roofs of the small houses;
They pepper the hillside like the ants, who crawl up their dirt mound and disappear into their underground home.
I lay back in the tall grass that hides me from the rest of world,
And it's just me and the never-ending sky...
Until the call for next class. My mind races back to me, I take a deep breath, and sigh,
Home...

I open my eyes to the green valley below, filled with light.
I am at the peak of the mountain,
I feel a strong, warm updraft under my, now outstretched wings.
I feel light and so I jump,
Soaring into the sky...
Or so I thought...
The air suddenly turns harsh and cold...
As I fall through.
"This can't be happening" I think
But I continue to fall.
I expect to fly at the last moment, or
get caught by someone, or
At least wake up...
But it doesn't happen.
The ground accelerates towards me...
and I hit it.
I feel everything,
Every ounce of pain.
I realise then...
I have broken my wings...

I wake in pain...
On the floor in my room,
gasping for the breath that falling out of bed has knocked out of me...
Dreams... sometimes I'm too scared to fall asleep because of what I may dream of...

A single light shines down on me...
I'm alone in my house while my grandmother works hard to make ends meet...
I can't blame her for this...
I'm trapped inside my OWN loneliness.
I guess when push comes to shove,
I don't mind it this way...
It's pretty much my home.
When I do the chores, waiting for her, I leave the TV off.
Even when I'm stirring up dust,
Being alone is like a breath of fresh air...
And when she comes home,
We'll breathe that air together...