A Restless Dreamer with Shattered Bones
His hands shook by his side as he laid in bed that wintry day.
The broken record of heavy rain on the window turned to ice once it made contact with his icy shell.
A blanket of cloud cover sealed him in from his neighborhood outside that was ringing with sirens of urgency.
He remained alone in bed where his brain contorted in its cage until there was nothing left except a spiderweb of electrical currents and static.
His heart accelerated from his back to his ribs, running into the walls on both sides until it broke through and tipped over the cliff of his chest and relaxed again.
The mess around him paid no mind to his presence as he had stayed in bed for days and moved very little.
He allowed for his subconscious to chip away at his reality every night until his eyes ripped open with fear as his heart began hitting the barriers again.
This cycle continued until the worry had aged him in a matter of weeks.
He had gotten to the point where the beating of his heart against the cement blockade of his ribs eventually shattered every fragile item around it after breaking through.
When this happened he remained in bed, with the mess around him still oblivious to his shattered bones.
This was when I intervened.
As I cleaned the chaos around him, I wept for the restless dreamer.
When the debris was gone I left him.
He remains there today with no mess surrounding him, the disarray that lingered could not be cleaned.
(this is one of the stories from a book I am currently writing, hopefully the full collection of stories and poems will be published by the end of the school year.)