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*

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