the birds tell her it’s morning but she groans and fights their decibells with the only thing she has; ignorance.
by choice, she lingers in between life and the dream world, making sense of everything that has never made sense before.
the world provides a warmth she has never seen. her body fits together. her life’s mosaic has been smoothed out.
she walks through grass six feet tall until she reaches what she thinks could be home. it looks different, but it’s a dream and in the dream it makes perfect sense because the fairies renovated it months ago.
the door opens and she steps through, but there’s nothing on the other side and her body flinches as she falls. the emptiness engulfs her. she never lands. until she reaches the cold pools of reality.
awake. shaken. not yet ready to face the outside world.
the alarm clock shouts at her. the message tone shrieks. her friends call. reality knocks at her forehead, tapping over and over again.
she doesn’t answer.
they slide some mail under the door; a list of things that need to happen. a list of things that have already happened. a picture of an estranged world to comprehend.
but she just rifles through her top drawer and takes out those little white pills and waits until the world around her begins to make sense.