Kristen Lopez-Ferreira

On the edge of deep slumber

I force my eyelids to open

I’m beginning to wonder

If I’m dreaming awake again


Damage from head to toe

Limbs forgetting their function

I can’t explain to anyone I know

What’ll follow is their compunction


There’s an undefined substance

For which I crave day and night

Before my inevitable comeuppance

I’d like just a taste of its delight


The delight of happiness

The gift of expression

Maybe some physical prowess

The delight of perfection


There’s something I need

An important piece I’m missing

The warnings I’ve failed to heed

Have come back in anger of dismissing