Lay Me Down

I'm going to sleep soon, and I don't know when I'll wake up. I don't know when I'll want to wake up. My waking world is a nightmare; those around me cast me aside. I've been stripped of my worth--stripped of my identity.

No distance was long enough to separate me from these specters of my life. No caring hands rested upon my shoulder. A voice never whispered in my ear that everything would be alright.

The only way to escape is to close my eyes. Close my eyes and rest. For hours, days, weeks, decades, millennia; however long it takes for the person that is "me" to exist again.

It falls to you, my lone and anonymous confidant: read these words. Know the plight of a person who had lost themselves. Read these words and do me one simple favor.

Lay me down to sleep, that I may wake up as myself once again.

Quite perplexing. The pleads of a sleeper echo out, but I wonder how he expects one to help him sleep? As well, why does he clutch onto the notion so strongly that he will awake anew simply by a temporary stasis?

This questions are simply profound responses and not to be taken as a necessity to answer, just merely thinking out loud. Again, and typically so, well written and I enjoyed the literary form.

I write really restricted from the first person, so the piece overall is very isolated, leading to fractured thoughts (like that someone he/she doesn't even know can save them and that when they are "saved everything will get better).

EDIT: Never mind, I feel like I'm making excuses above. Shortcomings are shortcomings and I guess I didn't take the time to think this one through fully.

Thanks for the thoughts, Xenon. Always a pleasure.