Sent: 3/22/2004 10:55 PM
I startle you, scare you, shake you to your core. I am the loud alarm throwing open your eyes, jolting your heart into a frantic beat, pinching at your every bed sore. I am roaring and shocking, to your every nerve electrifying. I am blaring me.
It's time to wake up.
The time for sleep is done.
You have slumbered enough.
You don't want to miss the sun.
I have tried to be kind, tried to be easy, tried to be quiet. I thought that in loving you, I shouldn't jar you from sleep in a commotion that seemed so piercingly defiant. So I was smooth and gentle, but rousing you wasn't that simple. I delicately murmured:
Please open your eyes.
It's time to wake up.
Tranquilly, you may rise.
You have slumbered enough.
But you turned over, you drooled, you began to snore. You wiped away the water I trickled, pushed away my hand that nudged you a little, detested me for refusing to let you sleep a little more. Coma held you captive, and to lethargy you had adapted. I could only swell.
It's time to wake up!
The time for sleep is done!
You have slumbered enough!
There is a war to be won!
So excuse my abrasive yell, my obtrusive rattle, my offensive tone. And finally, truly awaken to this my new tenacious, tough love thundering and roaring through your delicate, feeble comfort zone. Your unconsciousness shall quake, as with my blatant love you will wake.
I am blaring me.
I am blaring love.
Open your eyes to see
a screaming dove.
