REM Sleep

| February 18, 2017 | 0 Comments

I press my face closer to the glass,

And cup my hands to the sides of my face

Next to my eyes,

And peer into my brain.


(It’s empty.)


It’s dark in there.

Could someone turn the light on?

Maybe then I could see progress,

A machine in cognition, of sorts.


(No one listens to or complies with my commands.)


All I see

Is a reflection of myself,

And that’s boring

Because I’ve seen that face one-hundred-and-seventy-two times already.


(Maybe more than 172 times, actually)


And then something magical happens…


I wake up.


featured photo credit: MTSOfan Deep Diving via photopin (license)

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Category: featured, Poetry, Prose and Comedy

Soubhana Asif

About the Author ()

Soubhana Asif is a junior at Boston University majoring in Biology and double minoring in Arabic and Medical Anthropology. "Have I said too much? There's nothing more I can think of to say to you. But all you have to do is look at me to know that every word is true."

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