Fashion Killa

 I go to bed and tuck every inch of myself under the blankets. I fear that even a hole to breathe the cold air is enough for the demon in my closet to take over my dreams. Maybe he just lives near me all the time. I don't know. Maybe it's just my mind. The demon in my mind. Either way, I can't keep be taken by it. I want to stay in my dreams and just rest. I want to feel refreshed when I wake up. Instead, he grabs me and takes me and I fight him off. I just never know what to think. I have to be alert. To some degree. To fall asleep, but know I can be alert. I can wake myself up if I need to. If the astral plane isn't enough to keep me here. Grounded. It's just a part of the "fun" of sleeping, I guess. 

What if he tries again, to take me. To grab me. I escaped, narrowly last time. But, what if I just let him? I feel like that was the old me. I just let him. But not anymore. No. I'll never let that happen again. That's not me. It's not me anymore. No. 

We are at the bar. I see him. I watch him when he's not looking at me. He's tall. His hair is dark. He's got a sweet face. I see him looking down into his glass. Stirring the ice. Not paying attention to the women around him eyeing him up. He speaks to no one. He gave me flowers. They are beautiful. But, then he walked away. He gave them to me and I smiled and he hugged me. He kissed me on the cheek. He said he would talk to me later. But, I see him staring into his glass. Is that more interesting than spending time with me? I'm angry. I'm upset. I walk the flowers past him. He doesn't look up. I set them on a table and I walk away. I'm dancing. I'm talking. I'm drinking. I keep peeking a look at him. Does he notice me at all? Did he see me walk away? Did he see that I'm not carrying the flowers at all? Is he immune to pain? Or oblivious? I'm frustrated. He's talking with his boys. His friends. His dudes. He is laughing and speaking with them, nothing too crazy. He's still pretty mild and I appreciate that he isn't even looking up. He's not looking at me, but not at the women who surround the boys either. They flirt and he doesn't even see them. They don't exist. Someone tries to talk to him. He doesn't look at them. Just speaks over them. He walks away. I walk over and get the flowers. They are crushed. They are battered. They are ripped. Old. Petals are falling. The flowers are wilted. They are still hanging on and I pick them up. The whole bouquet. I walk away. Down a hallway. Somewhere else. I'm at his family's house. I put the flowers in a vase. I check on his mom. She can't walk. She's at the vanity. I help her with her jewelry. Her outfit. I dust. I clean for her. She smiles at me as I help her into her wheelchair. She holds my cheek with her hand. I walk back to the bar. The party. All the noise. He's there and he hugs me. I don't even see where he comes from. He feels good in my arms. His hips are wider and taller than mine and I touch his butt. He smiles at me and grabs my cheeks with both hands. He kisses me. We kiss so softly. Light kisses that cause my lips to swell. To drool for him and when our lips touch. They stick slightly to each other. Bounce apart. He lightly licks my bottom lip and I smile. I lightly touch his bottom lip between my teeth. He smiles back and kisses me sweetly before licking into my mouth. His hand is behind my back. It's on the top of by butt, then on my hip, then he is brushing the bottom of my ass, just cupping me slightly there. He gives me a gentle squeeze with his other hand on the back of my head, through my hair. It's only the slightest of gestures. All of it. It's sweet and gentle and I want more, but I also don't right now. It's enough for all the publicity. He smiles and looks into my eyes. Holding me there and kisses me again. A few quick ones and I've melted. I'm done. I'm gone. I adore him and that is all there is. This is it. 

Why am I awake? Why am I sweating again? It's 3AM for the second night in the row and I don't know what I did to deserve this. Why am I like this? I have terrible dreams and I am up in the night. I have sweet dreams I never want to wake from and I'm up in the middle of the fucking night. I can't fucking win. Am I going through menopuase? I swear I set the temperature to only be above 68 in the daytime. I come downstairs and check. It's 68. Its chilly. I go to my room and it's hot. I feel like there is an oven on in my room. There's fire coming from my blankets. I kick all of them off. I toss and turn and then get a fan. I turn it on. It doesn't work. I jiggle all the cords. I try another outlet. I jiggle all the cords again. It turns on and I am so stoked. I spread out. I grab a blanket. Then another. And then another. I need it to be freezing or I cannot sleep. It takes everything in me just to fall asleep again. I want the dream back. I would kill for the dream again. Anything but laying here wide awake remembering I am alone again.