Some times you wake up. Some times you don’t. Some times you think about it. Sometimes you can never seem to stop yourself.

Wake up.
I’m telling you, you’re really going to want to be here for this. So this time, is the time that you don’t wake... BUT I’M TELLING YOU, WAKE UP. The world spins around you. In one corner, the corner of your block, a middle-aged man slurps the milk from his bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. He sits in his kitchen alone, reading the Sports section of the Sunday newspaper. He groans at the sight of another loss by his favorite baseball troupe. He burned his toast because he had to take a shit while it was in the toaster. And now, he sits staring at the burnt piece of bread wondering how he got here, and why the fuck he had to take a dump right then and there. Damn it all.

In another corner, the corner of your country, a family is being torn apart. Children crying; held hands being torn from each other’s grasps. Rain. It’s always fucking raining when this happens. The mother has an empty look in her eyes, the father turns around and hangs his head low – disappointed in his lack of commitment. He hates his own guts right now, because his guts are making his beautiful daughter cry. Making her scream for anything but this. Anything please, I’ll be good Mom, I promise. The little boy sits on the stoop. Because he is not crying or screaming he gets ignored, the rain pours on his grey pajama shirt… he woke up only wanting to watch some cartoons, and now he gets this. He sits. Hands ripped apart. The rain pours. Damn it all.

In another corner, lies a couple. They are happy and love surrounds the both of them. They are connected through smiles, laughter, touch, and stares. They know each other, so they lie in silence, painting their souls with the energy from within them. This couple lies in silence, they are happy and no words are necessary to know this. They are entangled beneath the sheets, though neither has said anything. Their communication lies within the space they have created with their bodies and minds. This couple lays, spending the late hours of the eve in full contentment. The birds are chirping, clouds are moving and so is the whole world. There is no rain, and this whole time you were imagining a man and a woman lying next to each other. Damn it all.

So you’re awake now. If not, you should put this text down and stay the fuck away from me.

I’m sitting on this old wooden bench lost somewhere within a patch of grass and gravel pathways. I am sitting alone. There is no rain but there is no sun. I stare down at the ground and my mind begins to take me away. It’s the dirt, it’s the sand, it’s the seed and it’s the ants burrowed deep beneath my feet. It’s the worms that only come out to play on those days when the rest of the world seems to run and hide. It’s the flicker of the flame from your favorite candle. It’s 4am and you’re sitting staring into the eyes of your other. It’s the pickle that comes with your cheeseburger. It’s the surprise letter sitting in your mailbox. It’s a perfectly golden piece of toast with your favorite jam. It’s the whole world moving and you’re standing still.
And then I wake up – or maybe I fall back into my slumber. I can’t quit thinking about the grass and the seed and the dirt miles beyond the crust of the Earth. Miles and miles beneath your feet.
My thoughts are scattered and I suddenly feel something move across my bare foot. I look down and it is a black ant, big and strong. Out to play on this cloudy day. I watch its legs squirm back and forth as it perpetuates an inconsistent path across my skin. This ant is on my foot and I haven’t had one thought to shake it off. So I watch this ant. I can’t quit thinking about the grass and the seed and the dirt miles beneath me. Miles and miles beneath my feet. I am watching this ant meander like a lost child and it makes me smile.
I think you too would sit here smiling… and that would be so beautiful I might just forget to breathe.

If you’ve been awake, you already know this is a love letter. To you, from me, for us. A letter written for many like you; the ones with their eyes peeled and their heart’s doors left wide open. This is me trusting that you are not afraid of a little fresh air, of a cool breeze which could change everything for you. Let it all go sometime, let someone in. Take a chance, the chance. Enjoy a seemingly perfect piece of toast with your favorite jam. Try being like the couple, sitting and staring. Maybe touching, maybe not; but always learning and always feeling. WAKE UP to the bird calls, to the ants crawling across your sun-starved skin, to the dirt and to the seed miles and miles beneath your feet. That would be so beautiful I might just forget to breathe.

Welcome Allison.  You may notice that I moved your piece to the Prose board.  I enjoyed reading this. especially this paragraph:
I’m sitting on this old wooden bench lost somewhere within a patch of grass and gravel pathways. I am sitting alone. There is no rain but there is no sun. I stare down at the ground and my mind begins to take me away. It’s the dirt, it’s the sand, it’s the seed and it’s the ants burrowed deep beneath my feet. It’s the worms that only come out to play on those days when the rest of the world seems to run and hide. It’s the flicker of the flame from your favorite candle. It’s 4am and you’re sitting staring into the eyes of your other. It’s the pickle that comes with your cheeseburger. It’s the surprise letter sitting in your mailbox. It’s a perfectly golden piece of toast with your favorite jam. It’s the whole world moving and you’re standing still.

I think the entire last paragraph could go because that paragraph seems to be talking at the reader.  Whereas, if you end at:
"I think you too would sit here smiling… and that would be so beautiful I might just forget to breathe."
then the piece becomes mopre personal - like it really is one person thinking about another person.

very clever how you played with the word 'sometimes' in the intro; splitting it and then connecting it.  i agree with lavonne about the paragraph she especially enjoyed; a lot of great imagery and i loved the repitition and the rythm of 'it's'.  very nice.  keep writing!