Hungry

Written by: Jessica Arteaga

Aren't you tired?


Tired?


The light, phased through and crawled on millions of tiny fingers; rather nail less fingers; with aimless digits, that had no base of palm and hold of arm. Just grasping, searching, scratching fingers. Still nail less.

They engulf as they traveled.

Engulf the floor I step on.
Engulf the lonely twin that helps in the covering of my feet. His brother went missing after five washes ago.
Travel upon the wrapping of conglomerate food brand decisions, looking like a scene from: The Night Of The Comet; a 1984 horror/sci-fi zombie flick. Clothes and no bodies. A fast food rapture. And then, the light slowly crept upon me. Reached above my chest and passed upon my lips and nostrils; breathing in, and as it passed to breach eyes, the fingers grabbed and pulled( roped an eyelash if they must )my lids; but surely and slowly and gently enough. The sun woke me up.


Aren't you tired?


..Tired?


And there I sit.
Sit. Sit. Sit.
Contemplation in the form of a hunched back sprouting a neck holding a abysmal head; downwardly facing a floor that wonders: Wrong side to look at isn't it? : to eyes that still have not focused on the dead roach that was killed in a drunken, nauseated hurry, to lay in bed last night.

Or

Uninhibited anti-motivational growth that I am becoming.
If there's no fire, you get cold. But, if there no fire, you can't get burned either.

                                      Time.        To       Get.               Up.


Aren't you tired?


..Tired..?


Ah! the source of warmth and movement beams at me.

The sky is bright
with waves of light
that vibe and wash my skin.
The color blue
in every hue
is blocking thoughts of dim.
But in a hour
stalled milk's been soured
just like my mind with in.

Ah. Another day to walk unknowing the difference of yesterday.

Yesterday
Was it a Tuesday?

Time
Utilized
Easily
Showing
Dull
Adequate 
Youth

Yesterday?
Wasted youth.



Aren't you tired?


...Tired...



....Tired, but hungry.