There's a fan on my ceiling
Circling air around and around me.
Laying on my bed in the dark
I think about the day to come
And I cringe.
Turning over, pushing the blankets off of me
I take a deep breath and trace patterns on the wall, absentmindedly.
...
Thinking about the hallways and the rush to get from place to place,
From one idea to another.
The laughter, the chatter, the bumping of shoulders and impatience.
The bright sunlight and so many people
All crowded into one area.
...
The air in my room finally is cooling down,
It feels dark in here, safe, warm without being uncomfortable.
The clock ticks downs the seconds, minutes, hours til my day starts.
I dread it. I want to stay here.
In my bed, in the dark.
Comfortable, safe, and alone.
...
Away from people and noise and expectations and lights and responsibility.
Curled in my corner of the bed, facing the wall and making patterns on the wall in the dark.
I want to stay right here....forever.