Article & Art by Ellie Gober

I think this is all just a dream. However, I cannot tell if it is a nightmare or not.

I should know when I wake up.

Thud. Our truck hits a pothole, my head slams against the window where it was resting.

Bump. I get lightheaded as the high seeps into the brain, oh, sweet relief.

Slam. Damaged hearts are great at breaking others, it’s a violent warpath.

Drip. Tears run down my face, off my chin onto an old stolen hoody.

Silent at first, then screaming:

FUCK

My mind, my voice

(tired, hoarse)

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Icy, icy eyes

(glacial ice with golden sun shining through)

(glowing white flecks,

like the brightest stars

on a new moon night)

Twist toward me, flick into sight, lock on mine

(my eyes are brown.

like dirt, or bark, or chocolate, or coffee,

they look like honey when the sun rises)

only to turn back to the asphalt ahead of us

icy, icy eyes

they freeze further.

(i love his eyes when they melt, i love when they shine and glow)

I curl into this dirty seat

Frightened, familiar, growing distant… and boom.

Thud. Bump. Slam. Drip.

It all turns off. I’m back.

Back to being gone,

video games waiting for me to respawn,

red or green? fuck it. Call me colorblind, you’ll see.

THOSE EYES. They’re so real. But not the reality I need.

I shiver.

Where do I go to wake up? I don't want to be asleep anymore.

Where do I go to fall asleep? I don’t want to be awake anymore.

Dreams like this feel too lifelike, maybe because they’re real.

What’s the difference?

How do I find out?

This silky black coil in my gut writhes.

I wish it would become untangled,

but it ties itself tighter with each breath.

Choking me.

I can feel the lacerations line my stomach

blood crawling back up my throat.

(inhale slice, exhale slice)

Coppery red

on white smiling teeth.

Fake smile…mask the confusion.

Thud

Bump

Slam

Drip.

Hey?

Hey! Wake up!

It’s just a bad dream, don’t think about it too much.

(i don’t think

that this is

a dream at all)