"It's not me!" she broke in, hands still shaking, heart still trying to headbutt through her rib-cage. "SHUT UP! I don't know you!", she screamed at the wall of her bedroom, panting. Making memories right then and there. Born like stars in the darkness. Dreams that let loose into the silence of the real world like breaking through glass. Dreams to make the grown men weep in panic. Dreams to drink an extra cup of coffee for, on your way to work.
I wrote this during a week where I was having intense nightmares but working a full schedule plus overtime.