Bed Fellows

I stayed awake for a year to do nothing but breathe; shallow and grating across my ribs and up my spine.

I watched the dark weave its way into the sky and around the backs of my eyes. I watched the cracks appear behind it and its paint start to bubble and peel.

From behind my eyelids I saw the night pass into day and I shrank back. Back into the soft and warm as the light pressed up against the glass doors, searching for a way in.

Now sleep welcomes me again, so sleep I shall, and breathe easier.

And the dark and the light will come and go as they should, and time will move on minute by hour by day.