These days I am breathless,
Speechless and sleepless-
But not dreamless.

I am chalk full of imagination,
Running rampant in the dreary hours.
I hold your hand and hear your voice
All through the night,
Forgetting that I am no longer waking,
Never realizing that I am always dreaming.

At these dreadful hours,
My insides flip out and
I
am
Exposed
To the crows of the night;
Picking my decaying flesh as I writhe
Behind closed lids.

These days the meaning of peace is defined
By the pills I can find;
And the
Hurt
I can avoid;
And the dreams that I will
Forget, or bypass, whichever the chemicals
Choose.