The Dark

My elbows bent and hand in hand,
I lie here sleeping in the sand.
I wonder when my dreams will start,
Or when I’ll hear a beat of heart,
Or when I’ll see you past the dark.

I’m running low on breathing air,
but without lungs I do not care.
I’ve lost my mind, but my thinking’s clear,
And a muffled sob above me I hear.
Could it be that I’m really not here?

Has my dream started? Am I really awake?
Have I gone to sleep sad or almost irate?
I open my eyes, but it’s meshed in the night.
I feel as though I may be dead out of spite,
But then why is the light around me so bright?

     -Anthony