Day 2,445

I don't dream anymore, instead my body wanders while my mind stays resting in my bed.

I don't wake up hazy-minded chasing fragmented dreams, instead I wake up with dirty feet and aching bones.

I don't look forward to going to bed, instead I spend my evenings locking doors and hiding the keys.

We go to sleep in our homes and wake up on someone else's roof, clutching handfuls of hair and blood and praying the other person is okay. I've taken to keeping my head shaved to avoid waking up to a pounding headache and a pillow covered in blood.

It's getting to the point where even during the day I find my mind staying present and my body daydreaming, feet straying from the familiar paths and taking me down somewhere only they seem to know while I cry and scream at strangers to stop me.

They do not. They're in the same boat as me - we all are. Our bodies have a purpose beyond our mind's knowing and we are left gasping for air to fill the lungs that ache while the legs keep running and running and running from something we can't even see but the body knows that it's there.