Vacant Clothes and Open Windows

I jolted out of sleep, half expecting a figure to be looming over me- one comforting and sweet, yet terrifying in the night and silhouetted by only the small blue lights from various electronics that wanted to be remembered when the sun was gone from the sky. They would shine, alien-like, and sometimes would make scary shadows on the wall (but, I'm not a kid anymore so of course nothing frightens me) and usually I would toss a shirt over them angrily, cursing them for penetrating my tiresome pupils behind my, apparently, thin eyelids, but sometimes I forget to or just don't want to care and turn my back to them and ignore their attempts at gaining my attention. I'd leave the window open again and again if I must. Many may warn me of burglars, but the sudden absence of my material items doesn't really seem to phase me at this time- besides, I wasn't dreaming in reality. I left it open (or rather, unlocked) in hopes of catching the eye of a drifting soul, one that could rest instead of pacing about the cold sleepy earth awaiting to shimmer away as the sun rose the next morning, and then solemnly repeating the process the next night. I squeezed limp, empty clothes tightly- even in sleep, maybe in hopes of having them melt into my skin where I could hold onto them forever, the smell permeating into my nostrils every time I waved my arms about naturally, like when one smells there own body odor when casually moving about the day. I wouldn't mind it, not a bit. The scent would become natural, and one with my body. It wouldn't be so reoccurring that I would become familiar with it and soon ignore the smell all together, though, it would be (like the body odor) a bit surprising to smell and then I wouldn't be able to stop smelling it for a while. Quick bursts of scent throughout the day. Sounds like a slogan for some laundry detergent commercial where they're knowingly sexist and always imply that only women clean clothes. -I thought for a moment I was dreaming, and I could have sworn I was, but then again, I'm always in a dream. Never awake, always drifting, but of course this time would be just a bit different from the others and the tides in my body would come and go more frequently (my brain is the moon). Quick bursts of neurons throughout the day. Lights pulsing, like the electronic lights in my room (which don't scare me). Again, this night will repeat itself in my head and what many people believe to be reality for quite sometime, until my fuel runs low- but I'd surely refill it through daring moves and empty abodes filled with other vacant clothes. Let's just hope everyone else keeps their windows open for other weary souls. (Sorry, no "artwork" today).