They help you avoid integration for three more hours.
They are vivid images and light hopes and dreams premiering I get a VIP seat and popcorn on the back of my weary eyelids.
They are stolen reminiscences of lovers long past and tragic endings and recounting embarrassing moments and hopes fears disturbing thoughts curled up in a ball on the inside of two mismatched blankets that today aren't aligned either because I was too tired to bother, to breathe.
They are always interrupted by mother brother cat milk food pee firefly forcing you to eat sign a note draw just half an apple move over or cuddle I can't cuddle I'm too tired It's my afternoon my time go away They always come back.
Today my mum woke me up running her nails over the sensitive skin of my naked newly waxed legs. Ten Twenty Thirty Thousand movements later I open my eyes to see them grin amused at me I still cannot wake up I float away.
From a far away place in a far away time she lets me know that the books I left in the balcony are soaked throughout. I panic and dream about storms and leaky windows and brothers and cats and left over rain.
They are what inspire incoherent embarrassing mistake-filled slightly screwed handwriting crossed over crossed out words written in one breath thoughts interrupted so much bad spelling - oh, poetry like this.
My eyes burn a holy curse but I need to screw integrals today.