Pith clots mid-autumn,
tongue-laced rubies slit the hush,
juice wails—fermented.

How quickly we’ve been brought down,
On bended knees, crying please,
Stop the disease, we’ll take off the crown,
To our lives; listening to lies, mantras of self-help tease,
Hope beyond now. Clear the mental fog and refocus.

Peaceful sleep washes
over my consciousness,
I shroud myself
in the warmth of a duvet
and close my eyes.
Time passes in waves
washing the day away.

Colours spiral and blend,
as logic bends,
and I float weightlessly
through memories
that have never happened,
as I can only imagine.

The moon guards my secrets,
in a language
that I almost understand,
while I am everywhere
and nowhere,
dreaming through
seas of starlight
in my dreamland.

Then, my eyes snap open,
and reality crashes over me
like a wave of cold water,
leaving an emptiness
of something once profound,
and scenes that I
can no longer recall.
I can only hope
that it was a beautiful dream.

©️Lizzie Bevis