Wake up, it’s worse than your nightmares. I think hell is on earth- my grandma used to say this with such conviction. It’s the worst place to be and we’re exposed to it’s slimy nature every day. I wish I could sleep through the chaos and drown out my pain in silence. Let my dreams paint pictures and mash my subconscious with memories: have it sound like my fathers laughter and singing. Have it smell like my mothers morning cup of coffee. Have it feel like everyone is home and safe and well and present and that’s as close to heaven as I’ll ever get. “Wake up,” I tell myself in cold sweats. I tell myself that you need to stand up to let the earth know your somewhat grounded. I tell myself that strangers have stories to tell and we can all be sad together. We can all be sad together. We can all be sad together, right? Life isn’t gracious, but some parts let you taste a piece of heaven and I’ll hold onto that like a promise. I’ll eat embers and walk in the fire because the devil knows I can’t dance, anyways. Or maybe he just doesn’t have the guts to ask. -AMT ©️