There’s something in the air. I can taste something within the air. What is it? It’s…
I’m running through water; shallow water, it’s just-about reaching my ankles. Not deep, not deep at all. And I know how to swim, I don’t know why I’m panicking but I am, I’m panicking.
Dreams, they have this funny way of explaining so much whilst also explaining nothing.
Confused, I stumble through the water, looking for answer, an explanation; a reason for running. I find nothing. The depths of my brain lay buried under thick, heavy clouds; I’m waiting for rain in the desert.
And there’s something here, something that I can’t figure out and I want to; I so desperately want to know what I’m running from, what I’m trying to drown.
What’s that taste within the air?
I’m having trouble focusing. My hands are shaking. I try to light a cigarette. No. There’s an empty pack in my back pocket. Nothing else. I could’ve sworn I had two left.
Back to running. The water’s disappeared, sand’s now beneath my feet and I’m running. It’s a lot easier to run on sand than it is water. Noted. Begin again. Breath heavy. Heart racing.
My mind struggles to form sentences longer than-
There’s something in the air. I can taste something within the air; it’s resting on my tongue, allowing me a taste of whatever’s to come; what is it? I thought I was dreaming, I thought- I think a lot, never once do I act and take control of the thoughts that loom in my head.
I’m sick, I know this. I’m ill and no one’s listening. Maybe…maybe they’d listen if I was pretty? Beautiful? Worth more than just an empty breath? These dreams, they comfort me, when I’m on the cusp of sleep; they pull me away from my thoughts, into a world of hope, where the air tastes of promise and doesn’t burn the back of my throat.
This was meant to make sense, I can’t seem to do that anymore