Sarah Danilov
Period 1
4/25/2022
Modern Mythology
Creativity and Fiction
As the hands tik by
And the night gets closer
We start our routine
Wash, brush, change
We get in bed and crack open a book
Or turn on our phones
Yet, slowly our eyes begin to shut
As our inevitable alternative state chases us
We get tired
Our eyes finally close
We open our eyes to a different world
Where anything is possible
While that used to be a refuge from the stress of the world
It started to become a nightmare
Where numbers chase you, stomp on you
Where the problem you got wrong in third period math catches up to you
And looks you in your eyes as it slowly gets bigger
And bigger
Until you can’t see the top anymore
There is no chance of escaping
Yet your dream takes you somewhere else
You feel yourself touching your hair
However this time you truly feel how small a strand of hair is
How can it be so small
How are my hands so big
How big am i
You suddenly wake up
And run to the bathroom to stare at yourself
Your hair still feels funny
You feel as if your hands are swollen
Yet suddenly I can feel every bump on my face,
Every hair on my arm
A scratch on your finger that you didn’t know existed
You climb back into your bed for some relief
Hoping you don't get placed in the same alternative reality
And the night gets closer
We start our routine
Wash, brush, change
We get in bed and crack open a book
Or turn on our phones
Yet, slowly our eyes begin to shut
As our inevitable alternative state chases us
We get tired
Our eyes finally close
We open our eyes to a different world
Where anything is possible
While that used to be a refuge from the stress of the world
It started to become a nightmare
Where numbers chase you, stomp on you
Where the problem you got wrong in third period math catches up to you
And looks you in your eyes as it slowly gets bigger
And bigger
Until you can’t see the top anymore
There is no chance of escaping
Yet your dream takes you somewhere else
You feel yourself touching your hair
However this time you truly feel how small a strand of hair is
How can it be so small
How are my hands so big
How big am i
You suddenly wake up
And run to the bathroom to stare at yourself
Your hair still feels funny
You feel as if your hands are swollen
Yet suddenly I can feel every bump on my face,
Every hair on my arm
A scratch on your finger that you didn’t know existed
You climb back into your bed for some relief
Hoping you don't get placed in the same alternative reality
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