stay awake by Ella Mevissen (14, United States)

i.
pull my eyelashes up, tilt my head to the rising sun and
the silhouette of every one of my dreams, dissolving into mist
and as i turn to you, using all of the energy left in my broken bones
tell me that it never mattered anyways, that i never mattered
and everything i thought i was was built upon a fault line
you're an earthquake and i'm falling, head-first into the ground, 
with my eyes still glued to the stars that mock me, remind me
that this is all inside my mind, and i still can't see through
the darkness wrapping me tighter and tighter, threading its cold fingers
through my skin--i simply watch as i'm turned inside out, all my empathy 
lying empty on the floor. is this what i asked for?

---

ii.
kicking my way through this wild ocean, and i don't dare look back
as i come up for breath as waves of doubt crash around me
and the sky is as black as the ground i can't seem to find
rain on my face mixing with the fear of losing all that i have left
my only lifeline is about to snap, and i'm falling backwards
sinking through the wavering hands that reach out only to push me
farther and farther into this spiraling abyss, and i'm being dragged down
by the weight of the heart i used to call mine, before i lost control
i taste the blood pooling under my tongue, staining my teeth red,
streaking through the air i can't seem to pull into my lungs,
leaving me a shell of what i could have been. is this what i asked for?

iii. 
shuddering, shivering, against the wicked cold, fighting against the winds
that threaten to whisk me into the sky's dark, hungry maw
desperation is the only thing keeping my feet glued to the ground,
but i can't hold on forever, and i feel my grip slipping, one limb at a time,
as my skin flies away and i watch my body dissolve
and suddenly i am falling, or i am flying, and i've left the world behind
but no light surrounds my soul, and there's no relief or warmth, instead
i am being pulled apart, one cell at a time, and there's nothing left of me to feel
instead i watch it all fall apart with a blank face, taught not to care
as my world deteriorates into a single pixel, a splotch of color in a gray-scale world and
nothing remains except for your voice, telling me that everything's not fine
haunted melodies that i can never seem to outrun. is this what i asked for?

iv.
and my breath catches in my chest, my pulse jump-starts again,
and my eyes focus on everything and nothing at all.
the sweat above my lip tells me that there's something to forget
but i can't seem to quite remember what. i roll onto my back and feel my lungs
rise and fall, like syncopated waves--and an image flashes against
the back of my eyes, but as soon as i try to find it again, it is gone.
so i sigh and close my eyes, succumbing to the pull, and again
i'm falling through a familiar darkness, cold seeping under my fingernails and
between my outstretched fingers. your voice echoes all around me,
against the illusion of being awake. this isn't what i asked for.

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