awake

still overcoming the shock of being awake. a mild form of ptsd: "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else." i want to be a lion. wearing my sister's shirt and my brother's hoodie; there's something about a loved one's clothes that make me feel warmer and more comfortable wearing them...it carries their scent, i guess. when we were very little we would wear my father's t-shirts to bed (i don't think i ever had real pajamas); they were so huge on us, and there was a special significance to sleeping in the tattered shreds of my father's clothes. now i'm big and i wear my boyfriend's flannel pants that no longer smell like him. that's when it loses its appeal: when you've worn it so much it becomes your own.