onset of upset.

I need more than just a drink. I need to blunt this edge. It gets so sharp I could well cut myself in half. Imagine sitting in a restaurant and the waitress goes to every table and says “im sorry but I cant help you.” She’s supposed to be doing her job damnit, but she’s so helpless that she’s announcing it in the most orderly fashion.

Dream Sequence one.

Cold sweat one.

First waking.

4.17 am

Somehow with him, with his voice, I calm, fast and easy. Water on an ember, if you will? And we transform into streams of water after the first rain, on an uneven tarry road, swirling into each other and then away and then back again, with paper boats, made by jaded street children, laughing hard enough to preserve their innocence, floating on our backs like angled clouds.

Dream Sequence two.

Cold sweat two.

Second waking.

5.02 am

There are people under my bed, an entire world under by bed. I know there’s someone lying beside me but when I turn to look, the bed is empty and the worlds that lived under my bed, suddenly never did. The wind keeps billowing under my curtains, and the night is pitch, but I see everything gathered under moonlight. Something is coming. And there is no one with me.

Dream Sequence three

Cold sweat three.

Third waking.

5.45 am

I must go to the dentist. My mouth is falling off. My teeth drop out of my mouth like mom took down the string off of which hung the letters H-A-P-P-Y-B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y. The little ivory bricks tumble out in to my terrified, white palms, with blood and flesh and spit. I look up, and there’s nobody there.

Dream Sequence four.

Fourth waking.

6.23 am

I see the night sky while sinking; face up, in a blanket of clear, water. I see swirls of wind over me, like someone drew them in liquid stop motion.

Dream Sequence Five.

Cold Sweat four.

Final waking.

8.35 am