when the thick fog creeping on your back seeps past
consuming sickness that was keeping track, gets lost at last
but this relief is leaping into grief, it's getting deep
and getting black, it's coming fast,
the clouds just weep themselves to sleep
since they can't brace for this attack

i may be awake
i may be asleep
i cannot remember
falling either way this deep

I am a dream.

I am experienced only as I occur
Even then the clarity at best is a stuttering blur.
The strands felt by fingertips lips kiss goodbye
can't repeat or be shared or reasoned much of why.
I am a nightmare.