it's 12:59 and i don't want another minute to pass.

in the morning, i sit up and i pull the sheet up over my head and i build a thin wall between what was and what still is. i leave my dreams on the other side and i bathe in the sun as it reaches in for me through the window, breathing the light back into my veins, pulling the blues back into the center of my eyes. i can see again. i can breathe again. my heart can beat, subtly again. calm and quiet like the ocean was, the last time i dug my feet into the sand underneath those gentle waves pulling and pushing the particles causing me to sink a little more every second. i could feel it pulling me in, like the sea of blankets do every night, when i dive in and release myself and study nothing but the back of my eye lids and hear nothing but the beat inside my chest. i want to be free again. i want to find myself again. not an obligation, but it's my prerogative. i want to feel again. whole, some what. i need to find what completes me, i need to find that key. i need this more than i need the air in my lungs and the water down my back as i sneak a shower in the middle of the night. i need this like i need caffeine and sleep all at once. i need something to live for, something to love for, something, someone, to learn for. i need to rebuild my back bone, i need buildings over my head, on both sides of the city streets. i need it's leaves back under my feet. i'm faithless, so praying won't help. i'm filthy and washing won't cleanse. not nearly enough. my hands are still dirty, but my sheets, yeah well, they are always clean and they still, they still save me.