They have a strange way of bringing clarity.
You can look through meaning all you like, but I find it hides in plain sight.
They eat at my deepest fears.
Months spent building myself up
Ripped down in hours
In unconscious hours
Pointing out my every flaw, my every fear.
The words that I scream are the words left unsaid
The feelings I would never admit
No, ones that cannot be there
They are too harsh, too cruel, they cannot be my words.
I bite, I scratch, I hurt in these dreams
An anger, a violence within me that remains non-tampered,
But this uncontrollable anger cannot be mine, can it?
So many mistakes are made in these dreams
Mistakes made by me, foolish, stupid, pathetic.
Perhaps I deserve the words screamed by my loved ones,
Because surely I wouldn’t fall so far, would I?
I sit beside a face, a face that is not yours
Yet a face that I lean towards, that I covet all the same.
But these actions cannot be mine, I think, I must be confused
For I am yours, am I not?
I stand, shocked, staring
At your mangled corpse in the wreckage of your car
No tears, so little sadness, a cold air about me as I remain careless
This cruelty, this numb statue, surely she is not me.
This monster that roams within my dreams
It is but a monster under my bed
A ghoul in my closet
A whisper in the wind
But this whisper, this ghoul, this monster
It wears my face in my dreams
And leaves me far more paralyzed than any creature could
As I contemplate the truths that lurk in the dark.
*Photo is not mine*