11:51pm

I just prayed to Aphrodite.

How desperate does that make me?

My pathetic pleas

Reflect in the misted mirror,

Sliding down like teardrops

All wrapped in salt and serotonin.

I hide myself in a towel

(like that would protect me).

My heartbeat speaks

Calling Aphrodite one more time but

She doesn’t give a shit about me

(He doesn’t give a shit about me)

(They all ! )

stop it — you’re spiraling.

I thought the shower would wipe away

The burnt orange bruises I’ve illustrated

Across my chest

But no —

It’s time for sleep.

I’ll just go drown in my dreams.

7:16am

Well —

I didn’t drown but,

I didn’t sleep.

I swear she’s haunting me.

What does the silence mean, goddess?

What makes you a goddess anyway... (ugh).

Goddamn Aphrodite — does she know

About my orange dreams?

How they pierce my pupils

Like daffodils stained by the sun?

He was wearing that shirt again

(in my dream)

That off-tangerine one

That honestly looks stupid

But it doesn’t matter —

Because the shirt from last night

Was fabricated by my

Brain tissue (ew).

I try to forget the imagery

But it latches onto my lids like

Orange wallpaper.

My dreams can bite me.

7:22am

I stumble down the stairs

Choking on sweat,

Dream residue

Tangling in my eyelashes.

We were out of orange juice.

My cheeks blister pink as I

Realize the same thing

Happened in my nightmare

(of course).

But it’s not real.

Not real, not real, not real.

Dreams ≠ reality,

You know this.

But why then

Are my dreams (nightmares)

Coming true?

7:46am

The windshield is hazy

The wheels of the car

Barely touching the asphalt.

I can taste

Bitter flakes of

Cereal but I can barely

Keep them down.

I say bye to my sister

And then I’m catapulted

Down the narrow hallway.

One foot in front of the —

Gah

Watch it,

Don’t

Trip.

He cares, he does

(no he doesn’t).

You obviously care

(I wish I didn’t).

8:03am

There he is.

Ask him to

Pull out the cards

(yes, the stupid orange ones)

Start a game.

Say some words.

Any words.

Don’t let Aphrodite’s silence

Rupture your — confidence?

He seems interested

(as ever)

Glazed eyes.

Muted Smile.

Shit shit shit.

That’s what he looked like in my dream

(that’s what he always looks like — dreams or not).

I shuffle the deck.

I feel my heart rip,

Like Aphrodite is

Pulling at my hair

I wore red pants —

I’m trying.

I want to let the sunlight in.

And I want to feel its heat on my skin

(whatever that means)

But this orange feels so

Artificial.

Yeah,

I know.

The first time I dreamt in orange

Just a few months earlier,

It turned me into a tulip,

And reality was the sun —

It all just fit

For one day.

I guess I mistook

A light bulb for the sun.

His orange shirt

Does certainly shine

(no it doesn’t).

I wish I dreamt like a man

With a stained x chromosome —

Color blind

Neutral

With

Glazed eyes and

A muted smile.

Or maybe

I should just

shut up

And take Aphrodite’s silence

As a clue.