aesthetic, hands, and room image

My dream whispered a wake-up
and I did
but I didn't move
I did not want to
Encased in the heat
created by my own body
I shifted
and
what once was
disappeared

I moved
and found that
I did not want to
So I stayed
to watch the time
make a fool of me

Eyes now open
I experienced a day
Though time fooled me once again
it could not keep me from this hour
The white light
could not take away my sight
Instead, forced me to move
I did not want to
It, being so bright
imprinted its glare
I now see it whenever I move
I do not want to.


-Andrea Medina
Both photo and poem were fabricated by me.