To Be or Not To Be?

[KaileyRoo]

I'm having a problem. My dreams are starting to swirl together. A mist caught up in the morning hours they twirl and entertwine within my conscience. Plots no longer making sense. Dreams of werewolves and lovers past plague the mind. Dreams of children to be and of haunting ghosts decay the heart. Perhaps this is a sign of growing insecurity. Once this person stood proud and unafraid. Now I cower standing near vulnerable and defensless as a freshly shone spring lamb. What to do? There is no doctor befitting a title to fix dreams. No pill will generate a stronger will, no surgeon can implant a spine.

So laying in bed, the pillow dreanched with the tears clutching to blankets as if they will save a soul from drowning, I lay looking at the painted ceiling. Bare and infertile it bores back at me with an eyeless gaze.
It mocks me.
It all mocks me.
It boasts of its unfeeling. It's inability to feel pain, loss, broken desire, and failed love.
And I reply with tears. My ability to appreciate gratitude, laughter, a tear, a kiss, a simple embrace. But now I'm not sure if I responded correctly. Me thinks I envy the inanimate. Though cold and unfeeling. They might still pocess beauty-which is commonly envied amoungst the animate- and still know no pain. At times it makes me wish I were more like them. So the question will remain in my mind but never spoken. . .
To be or not to be?