Hopes and Fears

In our lives there will always be hopes and fears popping in and out of our heads. Some nights they dance about as I try to shut my eyes and scatter about the room as I toss and turn, trying to settle my mind. When I wake up I’m in a daze before they come rushing back.

I try to wake up feeling excited versus anxious, about the things to come. I try not to think of the ever-growing list of things I need to do for the day and take my time getting ready. Still by the time I realize I’m running behind schedule, these hopes and fears are there waiting by the door. I try to keep them locked up but they must have figured out how to climb through the window.

No matter. I can always stick my headphones in and ignore them. The music will drown them out…although I do like the hopes very much, so I let them dance while I walk to the rhythm of the morning. They’re warm like the sun and brush gently across my skin. They make my heart pound heavily, but the heaviness is nice…it lets me know that I’m still alive and as I get lost in my hopes I pull out my phone and suddenly fear sinks its teeth into me.

Being late, not having things done, forgetting something back at home…all of the little fears that poke and pick at me throughout the day. Sometimes it’s easy to ignore them and other times I can’t. I think about kicking them, or stomping on them…but at the same time being so carefree isn’t always a good thing. Things need to get done. I have places I need to go, people I need to meet, work I need to finish…and the ever-growing list of little fears pushes me to get them done. My heart races when the fears start to slither about. They slip between my ankles, wrap around my throat…they nearly suffocate me…and yet I’m still alive.

My hopesĀ  tug at me and my fears start to pull back. Both clawing at my arms and legs and face. I can’t seem to decide which way to go, so I sit in the grey…and I wait. I procrastinate. I pretend everything is nothing, and that nothing is everything. It’s a numb place to be, and very boring…there’s no music or colour. There are no hopes and no fears…so I let them back in and let the battle begin, until night-time comes again and I begin to dream.

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A Comfortable Chill

I’m slightly cold…but I’m comfortable. It’s a comfortable chill.

My foot is falling asleep and my thoughts are swimming about like trout in a lake. My pillow tries to warm my body but because my shirt is so thin, the cold seeps through my back and into my skin. My breaths are cold too when they enter me but warm when I release them…and my lips are soft but dry. The spits cold too.

The cold is slithering within me…and I want it to stop moving about so I can feel warmth but I know the warmth will make my eyes heavy, and I’ll pray to sleep.