There is a creature outside your window. Beside your wall, amongst the meeter. Broadcasting upon your dreams, just waiting for the chance to steal your face.
It’s millipede legs grasp on to the roof, as his head peers in through your cracked blinds. He wears the face of your enemy, then of your friend, that of your mother and of your father. He will try whatever it takes to get you to crack, and he will try every night, consistent. Like the headache you get from the light.
I feel them open, though I can’t tell the difference.
The process repeats. How many minutes have passed? how much time has gone? I dare not pick up my phone and risk falling into the digital world of my self induced insomnia.
I close my eyes.
Again they open, this time its bright. I’m in my back yard, the tree is there, but leaves when it wishes. The wall is brown but also whatever color it want’s to be. I’m dreaming now, and it’s the only state in which I can relax.