A Girl

A little girl lies in a bed, arms folded in the stereotypical posture of peace. She is either sleeping, dead, or in a coma. Her hair looks blond, but doesn't seem to belong that way: either she dyes it or it is a wig. She is not sickly or thin enough to be in the advanced stages of chemotherapy, nor does her bed appear to be in a hospital so much as a normal bedroom. Her face is freckled - for some reason this stands out to me.

I cannot clearly picture her clothes or her blankets, though the blankets are more clear to me: a dark color, most likely navy, and heavy - a comforter, not sheets. There is something near the head of the bed to her left, and there may be someone sitting to this side. To her right, the space is empty. There is a door in this direction, but it is more likely a closet than an entrance.


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Numbers (Previously Misposted)

All is black.
Within the black are three numbers, tall, three dimensional numerals in bold colors against the black.
From left to right, first comes a 2 in bright Red. Second, a Blue numeral 1, and third, a 3 I could not see - either because it was invisible, or because it was as Black as everything that was not a number.
Aside from these numbers, nothing can be seen, but there is also something green there. Something I cannot see. It could be that the three is indeed invisible, but were it visible it would be green. Or it could be something that I simply did not see.

Do you see why I do not understand?

The Path

There is a winding path, leading up what I believe is the last rise of a mountain. The climb is quite gentle in the direction the path leads, but there is a sharp drop off on the other end. Along various parts of the path are doorways—door frames which so far as I can tell lead nowhere. A curtain hangs from each door frame, I think from a rod near the top, but do not see them close enough to be sure. There is something at the top of the mountain, but I do not see it—I feel as though it should be another curtained door frame, and that it is positioned at the end of the path, but I do not see it.

Reclining in Thought

A cave in my head
Growing larger by the minute
I am in this cave
Everyone I know is somewhere else.
The cave is heavy.
Pushing on my eyes and lids
Out and Down

Plucked from a Crowd

A lock.
About the lock, a circle
About the circle, a box
About the box, a man – yet not a man
Male, yet feminine
Almost like an angel, I expect him to grow wings
A form like water droplets that get too close
Clear eyes, but blurry shape
Blue in sense, but not in color
Altogether undefined
The man defined by the box
The box defined by the circle
The circle defined by the lock
The lock alone itself defined.
A key that was, but is no more

Sitting Alone

A tree with withered roots, which blossoms but bears no leaves
The ground beneath it, scorched, barren, cracked
Yet water fills the cracks, fresh and clear.