Incandescent heart
that roams in empty rooms.
Tormented state of mind
that corrupts the soul.
The moon has gone black,
the stars show no reflection.
The sun is not in the sky,
clouds are the only vision.
An angelic voice
has been silent for too long.
The sleeves are empty
but the mind overflows.
Unrecognized by them,
a blank space
where the face should be.
But yet the mirror screams
and those shady dreams appear.
The candle is now consumed
but there's still remaining wax.
Untold promises,
unconcealed lies.
The dying child within
takes the last breaths,
the ones that promise death
and the revival
as a warrior.

something brushes my cheek as I sleep
tiny footsteps perhaps
and I awake in the vaguely lit room
somewhat startled
for this is the second time in two nights
but on this night I do not simply turn over
the dreams, these nightmares of sorts
are beginning to extend
well past the moment of being awake

now propped on one arm
I focus my eyes and sweep
first across my pillow
slowly to the edge
of the mattress
which is inches from the floor
I see it
not scampering
but walking away at a normal gate
this bright neon red spider  
large and life like
moving away towards the corner

wait!
I'm fully awake and I'm seeing this,
the thought occurred
my every nerve twitching in icewater
it's legs cartoonishly long and thin
I watched in stark silence
as it bent low and weaved its way through the space between my slippers
then behind a box of videos
I sat in disbelief
again asking myself if I were awake
but I knew
there was no need to slap myself this time

I slowly leaned towards the box and pulled it quickly
towards me
it was gone
and I was still awake
still in some place between disbelief and shock

how does one escape their nightmares
when they cross from dream to reality

I walk alone this August morning
as the heat begins its climb
and the ocean wind
is cooling in its soft touch

manta ray jumps and flips
and splashes
bragging to me its freedom

I walk alone
this endless beach
til the sweat drips and
the skin burns
and the storms roll
in distant chaos

there was a time when I would have considered
turning back
but those days have long since vanished
into the curve
that separates the climb
from the descent