And oh,
it is almost
always
the same.

Unconscious, I have dreams:
and they are, usually, infected;
tainted by, and only
by: you.

Perhaps my tattered
subconscious cannot seem
to let go.
No, I suppose,
I cannot forget nor forgive
just how detrimental
an impact you had
upon my fractured soul.

Perhaps this is why
in all my dreams
I always see
you.
You're in the shadows,
always lurking, always
ready; ready to hurt me
a million times over
and over
and over
and over again, and god,
you really never left
this bed, did you?

d.b