Trapped Here

I wake with a start. But that can’t possibly be the right word for it. I haven’t moved a muscle in what feels like a lifetime. It’s been years I’m pretty certain. But then again, it might only be a matter of hours. It’s just so hard to tell when all I do is sleep and wake. Sleep and wake.

Katie looks so pretty in that white dress. I used to tell her she looked like an angel in it.

I am so unbearably, uncomfortable right now. I feel the hard plastic tubes scrape across the back of my endlessly dry throat and the cold pure oxygen is burning my nose. It’s kinda like walking outside after the first snow – the electric air lighting my insides ablaze. Only it’s felt this way for every waking moment of everyday for years. I think.

Her lips are so soft as they brush across my cheek. I bet she smells like summer. She always does.

Something wet is sliding down my face slowly down my ear. God, I didn’t mean to make her cry.

My chest feels so tight. So still.

Thank you, Katie. You are an angel.

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