Behind my eyeballs are tiny shapes curled up tight and weighing almost nothing. Their bodies slowly rise and lower with each oppressive breath. Patient. Sleeping. Dreamless.
They wake when the world is truly beautiful, transforming from quiet lumps to shivering wonders. Pressing their hands up against the expansive curving windows they stare excitedly at what's taking place.
A few choice words. Impossible constellations. Landscapes, painted. Hallowed spaces. Rock walls with fist cracks. Half-finished buildings. Rooftop views.
It's never for long, though.
With spent energy.
I smile and the corners of my eyes rise with my thoughts. Left wanting friends who hold hands when necessary, give hugs that mean something, and fall asleep in a tangled mess like dirty socks dumped together. Matching heartbeats and breaths. Inhale, exhale, resume.
Best wanted, missed, and remembered.
The little beasts return to their snoring, secure slumber. Governed by nothing, I won't let them die early.
It's you that I ask.
Please don't kill me.
