I do not know whether I am asleep or awake,
but I want to wake up.
I try to turn,
but realise that I am being pinned down by a heavy force.
My eyes are shut,
but I can see my own body, sprawled on the bed.
I can see the silhouette
of my bedroom furniture.
I can see the green dot
illuminating on my camera charger.
I can see things,
but I cannot see
who is holding me down,
deep into my mattress.
I muster up my stamina
to shove away this negative force
just for an instant in which to escape,
but his weight is many times bigger;
I want to scream for help, but my voice betrays me.
I wish I had a dagger so I could fight back.
But who would I kill; I cannot see anyone.
A meek wail escapes my throat
and diffuses in the thick air around my bed.
Suddenly, the back of my eyes
starts to moisten.
The liquid surges forth and floods my eyelids,
then trickles down the bridge of my nose,
before finally plummeting
to the pillow under my cheek.
My body starts to unclench.
The negative force relaxes his grip on me.
The more I unclench, the more he lets me go.
I relinquish myself
and I lay still until I can no longer feel his breath on my neck.
And then I turn side.
I slowly open my eyelids and gather myself.
It is 3:30 AM, as it often is when this happens.
The relief and exhaustion is like that of an intense orgasm,
so I crave a cigarette,
wearing my cotton robe, alone in my balcony,
ruminating about the negative force
that just took me.