NOT TO DREAM

Not To Dream

Drink a cup or two of heavy caffeine

I suppress my own urge to spit the bitterness out

Lean uncomfortably on your stiff back

I feel the cold wooden chair pressing on my spine

Keep the hands busy, although it may be pointless

I crack my fingers to break the silence

Make sure the eyes are wide open

I bear the weighty lashes, constantly blinking

Do not lose the tension on the shoulders

I keep my elbows away from the armrest of the chair

Avoid the pleasure of the warmth

I enjoy the shiver as much as I wish

Desire not to dream

I keep myself out of the swift absurdity leading to obnoxiousness

Keep the space bright and artificial

The unceasing LED lights blur my exhausted vision

Plead with the sun not to rise

The closed shades should protect me from the new day

As I Lay

The flashing light brightens the room

In strobes of color

A plant's shadow projected on the white wall

The blurred outlines, a tint of purple

In the darkness, the air still shimmers

The remanence of objects flickering

As if it is still there

The ladybug crashing to the ceiling light

Irritates the atmosphere

Failing to resist the temptation of the bright warmth

The wings flap and twitch

The legs are fragile and pendulous

It moves and vibrates simultaneously

until it is abruptly compressed by a tissue box

marking a two-dimensional print on the wall

The wind blows the light into the room

Filling it with the lustrous gleam

soon canceled out by the winter breeze

Each blow pushes against the shade

The wooden handle tapping the windowsill

Bouncing back into the room,

Its movement is ceased by gravity

The window is locked

And air pressure is now behind firm glass

I Almost Said It

The cracks in the paint

on the ceiling

was partially scraped off

Revealing the bare gray concrete

I almost asked for help

My finger dialed a familiar number

That has been lingering in my head

Since the day you disappeared

I hovered above the green button

The room was empty

the disgusting solitary

Reminded the warmth

Once pressed upon the shoulder

by the weight of your head

The walls seemed too white

once shaded

with two orange shadows

at sunset

The water in the glass

remained still and untouched

Subtly reflecting my face

Too colorless to be shown

Lauren Kim is a high school student with a fervent love for both poetry and visual art. Her work delves into the intricacies of identity, the nuances of nature, and the emotional currents of teenage life. Through her poems and mixed media artwork, Lauren seeks to capture and convey the beauty in moments of introspection and everyday experiences. When she's not writing or creating art, she enjoys exploring the outdoors, reading contemporary poetry, and experimenting with new artistic techniques. Lauren's work has been influenced by her diverse cultural background and her deep connection to the natural world. She aspires to continue growing as an artist and a writer, sharing her unique perspective with others.