I get visions of a pick axe plunged into my ribcage. I remove it to reveal a gaping hole in my side. I look at the hole and say, “I don’t believe you. You’re a lie.” The blood gathers at the base of my spine when I sleep, which is odd because I sleep on my stomach or my sides. The visions never stop when I am away in Seattle, St. Helens, or some other place I happen to be running off to. Before they happen, sometimes, I get this idea to tell someone that I’m not in a mood for fucking, forget it, and just stop worrying and fall asleep beside me. The air conditioner is usually humming when I wake up. I open the curtains to let in morning sunlight and shower. When I press my fingers to my ribs I feel nothing, and I dig them in further, trying to reach through and find what I always see. Later, when I get back from work or walking, I shower again, and pace around waiting for my hair to dry up. I feel my side again and lose interest in doing anything but sleep.