Picture On My Fridge......

It's 5:30 in the am and this constant insomnia keeps me awake from the night before... I walk to my kitchen to get a bite hoping that a small meal will put me in the slumber I seek. Before one could even be prepared I see it. I see it anytime I have this feeling inside of my stomache, where I feel nothing will heal it. Nothing... But I am wrong. Everytime I enter this room I expect to see what I have placed there to assure myself that the picture is not just there to be there. It is there because I can not leave the image, in the kitchen or not. It is there starring into my eyes and all I can do is look back......
I open the fridge to look for something of my taste at the moment and nothing works for me... Nothing... but when I close the fridge my eyes are open because of the image I see when I close the fridge could fill me more than any complamentary breakfast. And I look and look and look... but the picture doesn't move. No matter how much I want the picture to do more than just look at me, it wont. It wont do what I want it to because it is only a picture. I can not ask it to be more than anything other than what it is for that would be unjust......
Maybe I am not hungry at all... and this feeling in my stomache is caused by this picture itself. Maybe the picture on the fridge wringles my insides woth nervousness and fear. Fear that the picture on my fridge will always remain the picture on my fridge... Maybe the picture is what keeps me awake at all hours of the night and day, longing sleep. A deep well needed sleep, in which I close my eyes and see the picture move. I see the picture do everything I want the image to do. In my sleep the picture is more than a mere poloroid. It is a life at which I do not live but want to. A life I feel like I need. In my sleep I can crawl right into the frame and the picture is no more......
Just you......
Just you and Me and every thought I can imagine of the image coming to life. But this life is not relevant for this is only a dream I wish I could be asleep to have. It is only a reoccuring, nocturnal thought which haunts me at all times of the day and night. Haunts me to want to make the picture come out of the paper it was processed on and touch me. Just to touch me or to speak to me.... face to face....
If this was possible could life be what it is when I imagine that this is not just a picture.... Would life be then a dream for you to be a reality? No answer arrives, and the daze is broken by a rumble coming from under my shirt.... and I have no thought but to close the fridge and open my eyes......
I open my eyes and see you.....
Just you......
Maybe I am not hungry in the first place. Maybe my hunger is not for food at all. Maybe my hunger is for imagination or what I could imagine to make into my reality, but for mow I know what is in front of me.... and it is not you... So until I can open my eyes and this picture moves and speaks to me and does all the things in does in my sleep what am I to do? What am I to do except hope and think that one day this frame will no longer bind me to this third demension that this picture stares at. So I am now looking at the fridge and the image on it burns my mind... It burns every brain cell inside of my head because every brain cell in my head is jumping like a jellybean hoping that this picture on my fridge will not always just be a picture on my fridge.
The hunger subsides and 13 minutes have passed and I have not moved. I shake my head, trying to shake the smile that puts my entire appitite in knots. I walk back up to my bed and lay there, thinking will this picture just be a picture? Just then the wierdest thing possible happened and the picture spoke to me. The picture said not to worry and that everything will work out just the way you picture it. Then a smile spied on half of my face, and a yawn crept my breath. I curl to the side like an infant and I close my eyes......
I close my eyes and see you......
Just you......