Random

In Bed Missing Summer

She lay in bed every day in that darkly lit room.
TV on. TV off. It didn't always matter.
An entire summer she slept in that dim space,
until she couldn't do it anymore.

Mentally and physically tired.
Her body ached, eyes repulsed,
a deep exhaustion from missing out—
feeling left behind.

But she couldn't get up
from that warm, cozy spot
on the right side of the bed against the wall.
Life continued while she stayed in bed,
missing everything.

Depressed? No, that wasn't it.
Not at all.
She was just stuck—
enjoying short thrills,
thinking it was okay
because her best friend was with her,
doing the same thing.

They stayed up all night,
scrolling on social media,
reading stories, watching TV, talking.
Sneaking into the kitchen at 2:26 a.m.,
whispering back and forth
until hush tones gave way to laughter.

Her friend would run back quickly,
trying not to wake anyone.
They baked cookies and muffins,
warmed up Hot Pockets and pizza rolls—
when they were hungry.
This was nice.

But...

She grew exhausted by it all.
Her body ached and groaned,
wide awake yet craving sleep.
Repulsed by her surroundings.
A compulsive need to sit—
unable to lie down,
unwilling to stay in that room.

Exhausted.

Those cheap thrills
no longer satisfied her.

Somehow, she always woke up first,
even after being the last to sleep.
She'd wait for her friend to wake up,
though it wouldn't be for hours.

Waking her was pointless—
she'd still be in a hazy, unconscious state.

Then came her family,
walking through the door dressed up,
bags in hand, smiles plastered wide.
She wanted that.
She craved that.

She loved dressing up to go out,
loved shopping—an impulse, sure—
but she was smart about it,
she enjoyed saving.

Her mom, her sister,
sometimes her brothers,
who rarely left the house:
"Us girls take too long," they'd say.

They'd walk in smiling,
talking about their day.
It upset her every time.

She questioned her mom,
always got the same reply.
Sometimes met with indifference.

Eyebrows furrowed, she'd pout,
waving her hands, trying to be heard.
Her voice tight with emotion,
holding back sharp words,
attempting not to be disrespectful.

Those words sat lodged in her throat—
unspoken—until they faded.

She missed the warm yellow sun
beaming onto green grass,
patches of purple, pink, yellow, and white flowers.
A view never seen from her window.

The sun never really embraced their skin
like the bathroom showerhead did.
Festivals missed. Events ignored.

This was the last straw.

"I won't do this to myself anymore.
As much as I love spending time with my friend,
I won't stay in bed,
or up all hours of the night."

I want the warm sun to embrace me,
like the wind around my body.
I want to feel grass beneath my feet,
and flowers scenting the air around me.

Dressed in something nice,
ready to go anywhere
but within these four walls I know too well.

Summer is almost over.
I want to enjoy what's left.

I want to feel good—
inside and out.
To be well rested,
full of energy,
laughing.

Eyes happy to see the world,
rather than recoiling from the light.

Like Anna on Coronation Day—
that's how I want to feel.
With the same plastered smile
my family wore,
as they returned from a day out—
living.

I want to live too.