It seems like just yesterday.
I can still hear the screaming when I close my eyes.
I break into a cold sweat. Again.
I open my eyes to make sure I’m not dead.
I am not.
I close my eyes and the screaming resumes.
It’s getting louder now.
I have no control.
Of it, of them, of anything.
I begin to peel the skin off of my weathered face using dull, jagged fingernails.
I should’ve clipped them days ago.
Why didn’t I?
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t hurt.
Not as much as the screaming.
So I continue,
I close my eyes tighter.
I am drowning in a pool of aimless indolence.
My newsfeed reeks of summer fun and smiles galore.
I want to take a picture.
I need to take a picture.
Haven’t posted for days!
The summer sun, strangely uninviting.
I do not understand.
Moments of scheduled chaos lead to moments of nothingness.
Opportunity for imaginations to soar,
For creative power to erupt.
You can’t do something with nothing.
How dare I make them try.
I am ignorant.
Unable to teach unconditional love and kind inclusion.
Their eyes, glassy with boredom.
The kind of boredom that precedes an epic battle,
For no reason at all.
Forced handholding on the sofa elicits torturous cries for help.
Ear piercing caterwauling.
I begin to scratch at my eyeballs,
But this physically hurts, so I discontinue.
I need not more pain.
I open my eyes and spot guacamole from a distance.
I remember that I am hungry.
Have I eaten today?
They have, 53 times give or take, but have I?
I briefly consider, but emptily recall,
We have no chips.
The chip phantom paid us a visit and left nary a crumb.
My nightmare continues.
Swells of vociferous protests beg for intervention.
I speak but no one hears me.
I scream and the world screams back.
Not at me though.
I am invisible.
I open my eyes and discover,
It is not yesterday.
It is today.
And I am ALIVE!
I heave a sigh of relief.
I hear something familiar, but choose not to listen.
I am on a mission.
A renewed purpose within reach.
Welcoming rays from the sun invite scores of possibilities.
My heart is full.
Humbling opportunity awaits.
For Poopyface, and all who obediently follow,
The chip crumb path to the end of the line.
Summertime greetings to you and yours.