[stylist] Nonfiction, As I Lay Me Down to Sleep, no language, no sex, sorry ha-ha!

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

Since it's been a millennia since we've posted actual writing, I thought
I'd share this piece I worked on last night. Couldn't sleep, and writing
helps channel my thoughts so they're not ping-ponging around my head all
night! LOL Now, it was about 3:00 am when I worked on this, but I had a
running thread in my head and wanted to see where it would take me.
Enjoy, or not, whatever your preference is.

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

Now I lay me down to sleep, praying for release, an absolution from
solitude. Staring into the swirling, popping TV fuzz that's my vision, I
reach out, clinging to Ross's warm body nearby. His nearness secures me
to reality; his steady breathing, rhythmic heartbeat, solid frame. The
warmth of him sears me, and I can't let go, terrified I'll slip away.
Silence weighs me down, anchoring me to endless thoughts. A hurricane
raging inside my head, wonders Marquez Garcia never considered. Weaving
in and out gracefully, relentlessly, I try to shove it down the rabbit
hole; nibbling bit-by-bit, the one thought clawing me, tearing me,
eating me alive. Lists, lists, lists, my lists will save me. Go through
them- go through them- go through them.

I pray the Lord, my soul to keep. Softly, gently, the words shape.
Buzzing and humming, they breathe into the ebony silence, chiseling
solid darkness. Moonbeams puncture this drawn shade, silver filtering
through shadows. Liquid silver laps my wounds, embracing me like a lost
friend. And you're there, smiling, always smiling. Ross drapes an arm
around my trembling shoulders. You move closer, tip-toeing through
moonbeams. We're together- all together, safe, near, a family. Our hands
graze, and my heart expands. In my arms, stroking my cheeks, you
reassure my existence, and I can't contain my heart. It swells, pushing,
arteries pumping liquid love. From behind, Ross wraps his arms around
our bulk, cradling, protecting. Somewhere Over the Rainbow trickles from
my mouth. Ross strokes both our heads; experiencing his warmth inching
through our veins. The moonbeams pixilate into silver drops, falling
around us. Droplets moisten my cheeks as you kiss me. Sweet, golden
kisses sealing our bond.

If I should die before I wake, this moment will sustain; offering
transubstantiation. A voice shrills in the murky distance. Panic chills
my motions as I whip my head up. Empty, its empty, and I see it coming,
rising, peaking, consuming the silvery mist. Screaming vibrates through
my body, tuning a pitch to penetrate my core. It is coming- it is
coming. I know where I am; I remember. Aware, lucidity gives me little
comfort. Alone, your words are the chance for me to find refuge. "Mama,
Mama." Screaming capitulates the world, tossing, shaking. I run at the
walls realizing the screams siren from my mouth. My body batters the
walls over and over, seeking release. Parched and soar, my throat
endures the daggers spewing from within. Feroscity possesses my hands as
they shred this nightmare like cardboard.

I pray the Lord, my soul to take, to end this stinging pain. Sparks
ignite me into wakefulness. Curled in a ball, blankets held captive in
my hands, tears travel tributaries carving injuries into my face. I fell
asleep; I was dreaming, always dreaming. Nothing's ever firm, solid,
dense, nothing to grasp. Reality ripples around me. Ross's snores cut
through the ringing in my ears like a buzz saw. Locked in ice, I burrow
into him, soaking the world around us. Breathing trudges slow, ragged.
Memories tear at me; dreams shroud me- the pulsing warmth of your hands
burn my face; your pink kisses bruise my lips; the dimensions of your
chuckle pound my chest; your adoring smile teases; your soothing body
nestled into mine shatters me bone by bone, breath by breath. A
cacophony of sounds fire distantly, proof of life existing outside this
mausoleum. Ross's strong body comforts as I alone stand guard. Your
presence lingers, enveloping our lives. Dreams haunt, mocking
reflections of what could have been. Silence is iron pulling me under.
Lists, lists, lists, my lists will save me.

Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Read my blog for Live Well Nebraska.com at
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/