Dreaming Of the Cataclysm | A Poem

 

Sometimes I allow myself to sink,

slowly drowning in a cold sweat as I feel the sack of my brittle bones fall through the parachute hampers of washed linen sheets 

violently plummeting upwards

towards the hollow stratosphere

wishing I could set sail in the dark splash of midnight ink spill decorated with the carless sprinklings of starlight hail.

My body is listless.

Shifting in the weightlessness of its preoccupied dreams.

The roof of my house didn't attempt to hold me in,

The wood struts felt my desperation and opened themselves with brutalist splinters,

pine wood shatters,

hovering in the frozen subtraction of gravities echo.

And I ruptured,

releasing my soul, soaring skywards into the welcoming sea of liquid twilight shores and I danced my way through the day lilies of the universe,

running wild with an artist's fantasy.

I saw the milkiness of Jupiter ravaged beneath my brush and it roared in the decimated void of vacuum stillness. 

Saturn's rings spun rabid at the touch of my fingertips.

Gyroscopic, it turned itself on its axis and whispered to life,

spinning with joy as it began singing like a record beneath my touch.

I paused to give Pluto a fond pat on the head and threw myself past rocks boasting themselves as extinction level events.

I paused to write a letter in the Milky Way for another wanderer to find.

I licked the envelope and sealed it and tucked it into the thicket of starlight daisies and hoped the wisps of untamed dust would not conceal it for an eternity. I admit I liked the idea of some navigator discovering the note and puzzling over who could've placed such a thing there.

I swirled the ink and mixed it with the lost light of imploded fire and slurried them into a whirlpool of wishes and it grew, 

beckoning to the wild portions of the universe with its one million tendrils of outstretched arms

and it pulled at my heart threatening me with peaceful slumber as I continued to dance.

I felt that maybe I could make a wish then. 

“Don't release me,”

I pleaded. 

“Don't let me go, my wants are nothing but bottled selfishness and my dreams are anchors of naive desires.”

I reached out slowly then,

“don't shatter beneath my touch, don't sing in hushed static whispers. Don't show me the universe just so that I can awake and find that I can't feel it breath! I am tired of my days running together like a strange dream that refuses an end, don't abandon me to drift here with dreams that will soon give way to desperate nightmares.”

The tendrils of outstretched arms wrapped themselves around the cold extensions of my body and they pulled me into the slurry of my creations. 

There is a light on, a lamp igniting the corner of the room in yellow flickers.

And I feel myself beginning to sink into the glow of its comfort.

Please someone tell me I am now awake.