As I Sleep, As it is My Fate
I hear you
as you speak.
While you hold my hand,
you are trying to hide your frustration that I cannot or will not converse with you.
You chat away about the outside world
as I sleep within a shell of my inside world.
I breathe, but no more than that.
Heart beating as others do awake.
You don’t truly know what goes on in here,
Whether I am dreaming of jet skiing or mountain climbing.
Unless you were trapped somewhere inside my mind,
to experience everything first-hand.
My nostrils flare,
and for a moment you stop your bantering monologue.
You think there is something to this-you pause for a fraction of a second.
Then you pass it off as a fluke, as I continue simply breathing,
as if I were temporarily distracted from doing so.
You otherwise have no awareness that I can hear you.
So you go on with your one-sided conversation, happy with yourself.
As if this were normal!
You chatter away on and on,
slightly tilting your head as if waiting for my reaction,
or for some kind of sign of arousal from my sleep.
You sigh lightly as you watch me lay there,
tears crest on your bottom lash lines,
I cannot see them,
but I know you when you are feeling helpless.
You want to save me from my harsh reality.
So you squeeze my hand, you profess your love.
You silently plead for me to wake, as if I could read your thoughts.
I know you, I cannot see this-yet I know.
Then, you return to your normal conversation about this and that.
You keep speaking,
like it will keep your mind off the possible pain I may be feeling,
but I cannot express myself.
But what if you are wrong?
What if I am not in any pain?
I would tell you this if I could.
Honestly-
I am quite content with my life here.
Listening in without contribution.
Observing without opinion,
while you go on and on about nonsense,
that only made sense
when I was awake like you-
like everyone else.
I am not like everyone else,
safely tucked in here
free to exist above all judgment.
The occasional head shake-maybe.
All I have to do is breathe,
and be fed through a tube,
feeling my every feeling ,
my joy, my sadness, my whatever-within myself,
without having to share, or having to accept your pity.
My sleep that is so maddening to you,
because you don’t have access to my secrets here.
My anger, my love, my hate-completely my own.
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