Sweet dreams. 

I can’t sleep again tonight. 

You know what I need, what I want. I don’t need you to spoon me, or to snuggle in my arms or kiss me softly. I need what every lonely thirty-something needs in the dead of a sleepless night. 

I need medication. 

Breathe. 

Pressure, at my throat, at my chest

Darkness filling my head

Struggling, with my thoughts, breath, life

Powerful, with your words, your arms, your grip

Terror fills my eyes, panic fills my heart

Losing any grip I had on myself, my sanity, my fight

Trembling under your fists, your anger, my anger

Tightening, in my throat, my breath staggers and I spin

You stare through me, like I am nothing

And slowly I fade out, undignified, pathetic, nothing

And then you relinquish

And I breathe.

Puddles are everywhere. 

I saw a muddy puddle, and I ran toward it thinking I could breeze right through it the way a happy child does. Before I knew it, I was swimming for my life in its thick, murky water. It was almost over my head. 

Up until then the sun had been shining. 

I didn’t even see it rain.