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Does He Know?

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How can he sleep at night? He must not know— He must think I’m doing well That it’s well with my soul. But does he know? Does he know the countless hours Of sleep I’ve been deprived of? Having to struggle under the covers, With my eyes sown shut— Just to wait for sleep to find me, Sometimes hours and hours later? All the time retracing memories and nightmares, Like a bad cd, repeating an awful clip. Does he know the meals I’ve missed? With an aching stomach, longing to be fed, But as soon as it’s in my sight, My stomach closes off and my throat shuts. Does he know the gallons of tears that have left my eyes, Within the last month and a half? Does he know how many tubs I could have filled With my anguish? How can he sleep at night, If he knows that he has ruined my life- After telling me of the respect he had for us? How can he live with himself, Knowing that because of his impulse, A “friend” who shared his stage— Has experienced the most excruciating pain E...
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~The Sea Flier, Chapter One~

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   He began his new life curled in a ball in a sandy and damp space. There were things clumped up around him, but he could barely breathe and he couldn't move at all.    His rough feet against the sand; he felt everything all moving at one time and the whole space shaking. His head bumped the top which shook sand everywhere in the tiny space and made his hair full of sand and his eyes stung as the grains hit all over his face. He curled as hard as he could and closed his eyes tight just waiting for something else to happen.    It was completely and utterly silent but when he focused as hard as he could, he thought he could hear a rushing sound like waves over him. The space was burning hot, but at the same time cooling. He felt a sun burn on his shoulders which stung even more, thanks to the sand. He didn't know what else to do, so he thought through everything he knew.     My name is Peter, he thought    That... that was the only th...
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