my eyes burn in the pitch black of my room, only illuminated by a 13" screen that screams in the darkness. it attacks my eyes with the talons of some ancient beast, but my head is too full. it's spinning and whirling and overflowing and desperate. hilariously underworked and heartbreakingly neglected. it's 3 a.m and a firefly lands on my arm. it tickles, advancing slowly to my hand, then to my desk. it illuminates the path it takes as it goes, the memory of its journey imprinted into my nerves. it settles onto my desk and, like a puppy, lies down and is still. i hope it's sleeping. i feel an unceasing tug to my laptop, to my dreams, the bubblegum streetlights streaming through the hastily dropped blinds.
i click the big teal button that says "write". i return to my dreams, my hope, my home.
i click "publish."