Sleep calls, its siren song sounds
filling synapses with treacle toxin
sluggishly eyes falter, breath deepens.
Reality falls away.
Anxiety ascends to its throne,
taking charge, parading crystalline hate
in celluloid reels, images encrusted
spattered and damaged.
Fists start to clench,
pounding pillows,
trying to free those innocents,
away from the nightmarish thugs
vapours in the mind.
Foot kicks and kicks once more,
as fist finally hits something hard
knuckles leaving ****** imprints on the floor.
Another night awake, scared of sleep.
Crimson dripping awaiting to be stemmed.