no interesting stories, just years of torment and grease (don't be so melodramatic)\n\na face that looks like the surface of a war-torn planet and my back is worse\n\nno longer smooth and pale, now ragged and a deep, violent red\n\n[[i would tear my own skin off if i could|revolt]]

[[i'm so tired|leave]]

i start walking forward. the floor is soft under my feet. i try to hold back my gag reflex as i [[continue.|stop]]

up\n\n\n\nThe ones with sleepers would struggle against the weight, heaving themselves\n\n\n\n\n[[and down|room]]

this piece contains aspects of body horror, self-harm, and other potentially triggering elements\n\n[[okay|opening]]

i found it\n\nevery pockmark, every cyst, every last scar\n\n(it's bigger than i expected)\n\n[["go, get some rest"|end]]

sheets made of skin\n\npock-marks, hair, moles\n\nscratches, scabs, scars\n\n[[(were they real?)|touch]]

no seams, no stitches\n\nno air pumps (maybe they were hidden inside)\n\njust look away, keep [[moving|move]]

[[spatial awareness is often distorted in dreams|skin]]

[[small as a footstool|football]] \n\n(how did [[they fit?|footstool]])

"bed dream, first draft" by julian elizabeth mcallister\n\n\n\n

bed dream, first draft

[[blindingly white|clean]]

[[i don't even know how i got here|tired]]

[[without a door|hallway]]

The [[beds|beds]] were [[breathing|Heaving]].

[[big as a football field|skin]] (how did it [[fit?|size]])

how will i recognize my bed \n\nwill it look like me\n\nwill it have my scars [[(it can have them)|tear]]\n\n[[why am i even looking for it|revolt]]

[[balanced on their stomach, stiff, horizontal|football]]

i can't see the end of the room in any direction. [[i can't see anything.|white]] there are [[beds]] everywhere in so many sizes. i know that only one is empty. [[i need to find it.|tired]]

[[without windows|door]]

i turn to my right and begin walking down a hallway, lined with rooms. i check inside every one, and every one is already taken. i finally reach the end and there's one last room, the only one with a door.\n\n[[the doorknob is full of a swirling liquid, red and white|sleep]]

[[up|down]]\n\n\n\n\nThe ones with sleepers would struggle against the weight, heaving themselves

i'm so tired\n\n[[i need to leave|move]]\n\n

i will let them make a bed of me if it means i no longer have to see myself like [[this]]

\n\n\n\n\nThe ones with sleepers would struggle against the weight, [[heaving|up]] themselves

[[anticeptically clean|windows]]

julian elizabeth mcallister