It's called the past because I'm getting past...

I awoke with a cringe.

I shuddered at the thought of the sun...the blinding...
too hopeful sun. (He's normally my let-down.)

He whispered me my morning song.
Reluctantly, I surrendered my hand to the slice of the cool air.
I pulled down the sheets exposing my neck... I felt naked.
My ears have never heard this sound before.
A sound so piercing. So full of mystery. Silence.

My eyes still faced the darkness,
I knew it was time to turn,
And turn I did.
His answer: a slap in the face.

Extending my arms...my fingertips kissed the clouds.
My eyes shut for a moment only to return....

return to the shadows.
Wishing I hadn't faced his black curtain,
I revealed myself to the light...the world...
And I knew that I would never surrender my cheek again.

My dreams pointed onwards
and I knew that the darkness would be no more.
I sensibly got past my bed and dove head-first into the world...
mid-dive...with his songs rushing past my body...I prayed to myself...
...hoping to slip immediately past the waters' boundaries...of hate, masks, bees and clowns.