When my mind first awakens

and the orange glow of my eyelids greets me enthusiastically,

my thoughts lay cloaked in Dawn’s robes

and prepare to run rampant for miles.

And when others would smell the rich scent of coffee

Or the soothing, medicinal musk of brewing tisane,

I register the scent of smog and honeyed venom.

My eyes fly open,

The familiar reality jolting my heart into action.

The posters on my thin walls,

Depicting comforting fictions,

No longer matter as my surroundings are blurred

in a deceivingly cheerful, yellow haze-

the color of vernal sunshine

and the color of his eyes, shining orbs amidst the shadow.

My heart pounds on the walls,

Rhythm lost to the oppressive chants of intimidating enemies,

Scratching at the window panes until my fingernails

Are nubs, bloodied and bruised with the

All too well-known shades of violet and cyan.

As I realize my circumstances,

My heart collapses to the floor

And heaves to and fro

And my thoughts enter from their dormancy,

Racing each other in an everlasting sprint.

My heart convolutes into itself

And is trampled by my youthful tormentors,

Beating its fist against the floor of its cell one last time

Before stalling.

My thoughts crumple and fold into

Origami boats

And float along on the torrent of brackish water

That spawns from my orange eyelids.

The venom fills my nostrils and my mind quakes,

Gathering past embarrassments and tying them with hewn twine

To throw them out of the window,

Broken and ashen from previous assaults.

The latch, rusted and disintegrating,

Comes off in my hand and a gust of strong wind

Carries my pain into the unknown and leaves my skull

ten,

one hundred,

one million pounds lighter.

My heart struggles to its feet,

Knees unstable and begging for their return to the grimy concrete.

My mind sags against the sashay,

breathing a sigh of relief.

Wrapping my thin arms around their shoulder,

I propose an idea-

to band together and fight the shadows and greys and his eyes.

With our hands clasped together and utterances on our lips,

I hear the faint beeping of a machine and

the clink of a saucer and teacup.

A faint smile brightens my eyes,

for I can indulge in the normality

of a stressful morning

calmed by the steam from steeped cinnamon and bergamot.