By Leah Moriarty
The rhythm coming from the window… helping the rain sing its lullaby, waiting on you to slip
away into a deep sleep , but how could there be time to sleep? The heavy nature of your eyes
never changes, and with that neither does the weight of perfection. The dreams you never
actually dream about anymore, now haunt you with their pressure. The brightness of your laptop
stings your heavy tear-filled eyes as you stare into space. The pinching in your spine, the yawn
you’re holding back.
The chair you’re always in never fails to leave its imprint on you as you get up. You’re as cold
as you could be, the fire you once burned is now gone. Gone, along with your peppy spirit, you
don’t bother looking into the mirror any more. It’s always the same person staring back at you,
even though the last time you recognized them was way back when. Staring into the sink you
think about how all that time passed, even though it doesn’t feel as though it did. Your tears roll
down your face, yet you still feel something bundling up inside.
Looking up to the mirror opening the cabinet you catch a glimpse of them. You stare,
wondering how. The more you look the more disappointed you end up, you can’t find them, you
sigh, turning away, deciding to disregard your routine you don’t actually keep as your routine
anymore and start walking back towards your room…you see the light dim on your laptop
signaling it wants to shut down due to inactivity. But before you reach your room you pass the
hallway mirror. Catching in your peripheral, you see them again. You quickly look back, you
finally catch them, they stare back at you dazed, “ there you are!” they exclaim… “ you
recognize me?” you reply. “…of course” they say as they tilt their head, you look disappointedly
back at them, “How?” you ask, “…” they reply with silence . “ Are you okay?“ they ask, “I don’t
think so” you say “why, what’s wrong?” Their response sends chills down your spine. The pinch
in it leaves for a moment but then returns, the pressure you feel in your chest feels tighter. “you”
you reply to them in a defeated tone… they signal to the photo hanging next to the mirror.
Your gaze lands on the picture, your body tenses. You remember how much fun the old you
used to have, you look back at the mirror about to spit out that feeling you have in your chest, “ I
miss you” you say. As they smile, you can’t help but smile back. “You never really left,” they say.
Making your way back towards your laptop, instead of sitting down you decide to shut it. You
look out the window determined to break the cycle you’ve gotten stuck in, the rain is still playing
its lullaby you love so much, and you decide it’s finally time you get some rest.
“Relaxing brings weakness, when done by a muscle; but brings strength, when done by a
person.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana
