The Atrium is a room that I dream about. It is without walls or a roof, only sky. The door is just a little stretch of sand, and some reeds sticking up out of the ground, and everything outside is just endless water. I can wade through the door and out into the ocean, and once I let myself sink far enough down, I don’t have a body to worry about. I leave myself scattered in the sand, and wait for the sun to come up.
William Helms is a teenager who can’t sleep. Sometimes he writes poems. Here they are: