Wonder Lately

Poem by Meagan Gonzaga

Sometimes I think I can hear someone else in my room.
Maybe it’s Future Me and that’s my own soft snore
or maybe they’re sleep sounds left over from last night.
I should learn to stay like this, 
face up, with my spine curved like a fallen leaf. 
To do that, I think I’ll have to sleep with tennis balls taped to my 
stomach. 
Future Me, what’s it like to be a black cat 
or a grim shape left in soggy tea leaves? 
And why is it that when I smack a mosquito 
it’s my blood that’s smeared on the wall? 
Some nights I get really afraid 
and I’m scared of the noise my heartbeat makes when it moves 
the sheets. 
Blood floods my cheeks and ears, making me sweat.
My bed becomes a quagmire of blankets 
and I’m sinking into its quicksand. 
Stay awake! Or is it the opposite? 
I just hope I have one of those puppy dreams 
and wake clutching my dog-sized pillow. 
Future Me has two dogs and an apartment with a backyard.
Future Me replaces the batteries in her smoke detector
and knows how to cook good food. 
Future Me is sleeping but always wakes up before her alarm.