I lay my head down on a pillow
soft sheets, covered in little baubles from
all of the washings they have endured.  
My eyes drift closed
slowly.
When you are tired, your eyes burn
dreams fill them up to the brim like tears
an eight hour play awaiting an audience.
The remnants of fairy lights and starry skies
leave an imprint on my eyelids
fading into darkness.
Flashing images, projected in my mind.
No new faces, the brain isn't that powerful
everything is seen, very little is remembered
outside of
dreams.
When i wake up, i am very rarely blessed
with memories of my slumber.
Deleted synapses
never recovered
lost to sleep
and dreaming.