Of Ghosts and Therapy

The bedtime shuffle

I laid down to find my way to sleep. The process of shutting down spans through my body like waves. An image. A girl. She steps toward me. With every inch she draws near she changes, her hair flailing loosely around her crown red, blonde, black, finally deciding on brown. The silky tendrils fall gently to her shoulders. Shiningly pale smooth arms emerge from the atmosphere, wrapping around my shoulders and neck suddenly yet softly. A flash of big brilliant eyes. Our lips collide and I feel her breath into me. My body rises inside the flash and out, ultimately knocking me out of the scene as my brain begins to focus on the coolness of the sheets and the ruffling of the pillow. Thusly, marking the exact amount of sleep I will enjoy tonight. On the couch now, the only light coming from my cigarette as I draw and this hollow glow of my phone. Oh what a horrible night to have a curse…