Heavy chest. Chained limbs.
Vivid senses, but a blurred vision.
Awake, but hope dims
As the bed becomes a grim prison.
It's from these deceiving dreams, I believe,
And the tempting embrace of slumber
Into which woes I'd sought to relieve.

Alas, here I lay.
Frozen senses, but some - sound, sight, touch -
Remain to parlay
Those who love the shadows o so much.
Is that my mother? No, it can't be.
But who stands there, watching at my side?
Could it be my sister to wake me?

The same vague figure
Always at the ready to deceive
And eager to lure
Me, tried and worn, from the bed to leave.
Possessing my mother's sweet, soft voice,
Imitating my father's presence,
Holding me down, leaving me no choice.

Tied at all my limbs,
At the chest too; there is no escape.
I hear the grim hymns
Of that shadowy figure, whose shape
Embraces my body - I can't breathe!
More than my mind, at times, it will rape.
All I can do is hope to be free.

It all feels so real.
To the bed I'm pinned as these horrors
Make way with such zeal.
I can't even scream, despite the tortures.
Breathing heavily, I try to move,
Watching what else the figure conjures.
It's for these nightmares, to sleep, I rue.

... sleep paralysis sucks...
can't scream. can't move a single muscle, except for my eyes.
not all of the dreams are that terrifying, but they all are pretty damn weird.
sometimes i get them more than once within one night, or whenever i nap, which is annoying.
anyways, goodnight!
Tony Ortiz Jun 28

Being in the dark has become a problem,
Because this 'Monster' Mentality has me thinking I'm a Goblin.
One step, two step, three step, four,
I don't know how many steps till she's at my door.
But when I look up from the phone or the laptop screen,
My voice fails to make a scene,
She screams in my face with a banshee shriek,
And burns my soul so she's all I think of for a week.
I don't know what she is,
Or why she picked me,
But I can't think straight after the first time she bit me.
"It didn't happen, Tony,
Don't even trip,
You're just seeing things man,
It ain't even shit."
But my brain thinks,
"What if she's why you don't swim, you sink?
What if she's the one you've been waiting for,
Just around the bend wanting to lure you,
To the open road to shock and appaul you.
She's tryin' ta maul you.
Stop listening to the call, Booh,
You're better than that, man,
You're the guy who helps people get over these things,
And I know seeing her stings, and brings,
The painful memories but this isn't a thing."
I don't know what to think,
She looks so real, she stinks,
And the high pitched ringing in my ears sends me to the brink.
I haven't been this scared in years,
She may become my greatest fear,
Maybe she's the warning sign that the end is near.
She never works alone, that much is clear.
Her partner is a silent drone,
Maybe some kind of vile clone,
Who's sole purpose is to only approach,
When I'm alone.
He's as white as a ghost.
No eyes, but stares through me,
As if I'm a horrible host.
He's 7', but I may not be right,
Cuz every time I see him, he runs out of sight.
He must think that I'll fight.
Or maybe the pure sight of me,
Fills him with fright,
But when I go out at night,
It stalks me.
Follows me,
Never talking.
Not even one word,
Not one damn word.
This thing runs like a dog,
But makes as much noise as a bird.
Never to be heard.
As silent as a knife,
With long claws that change color.
Maybe he's life,
And the other is strife.
The two go hand-in-hand,
Like a child walking with a grown man.
Nevermind those two, let's talk about the eyes,
The ones in your soda, or juice,
They see through the lies,
They know what I am,
Know what I've done to who, and what problems,
And my position on em, And where I stand.
They don't blink, they just watch.
They stare and they learn,
But every time I see one,
My vision just blurs.
And my skin starts to burn.
I don't like this.
These visual herds can't be verified.
It's Me x Them so it becomes,
Two Times The Terrified.

Lately I've been struggling with strange dreams, and hallucinations. I haven't seen a doctor yet to get to the source of the problem, but I'm planning on it soon.
Karisa Brown Jun 20

They are our illusions
They are our degree
The roots of what we step
Foot in
And the lack of unseen

Muderous tribes
Come to the feast
Sparing nothing less
Leaving only
Good intentions

Dakota Apr 25

god traced her fingers down my spine
and said, “my child, you don’t believe
in much of anything these days,
why are you putting your faith
in empty bottles and 2 miligram bars?”

i scratched my nails down my arm
and said, “god, you are just another
voice i hear. how do i know
you’re not the one that tries to kill me?
how do i know that you’re not the one
who whispers about how terrible i am?”

god ran her hands through my hair
and said, “sweetie, i’m god. you have
to trust me, you have to believe
that i love you and can save you.”

i balled my hands into fists
and said, “god, i have stopped
putting my faith in forces
i hear in my ears. i can’t believe
in something that will only
let me wallow in my sickness
because it’s a trial.
my life has been a trial
and i’m going to make it end
if i hear one more goddamn
voice.”

god vanished and laughed herself to sleep.

Zenith Apr 24

Closing my eyes,
reality slips away
and so do I.
I open them again,
and breathe in deeply.
I feel alive as the world spins,
and it seems as though
everything has a double.
The violet trees begin to dance,
encircling me and enticing me
with their trance.
And the grass upon which I lay
grows taller and taller by the second.
I feel myself engulfed by them,
but it is a new feeling
I wish to endure.
I feel so unified with nature,
unlike I've ever felt before.
There are faces surrounding me,
but they do not look normal to me.
They remind me of Picasso
and of Van Gogh.
Twisted perceptions of life
with extra flares of color when needed.
And these faces reach out to me,
far beyond what is humanly possible,
and lift me up to the clouds.
Among the clouds I soar,
feeling as light as a feather
when flying past the busy birds.
I hope I never land,
I love being this high up
and away from the troubles of this earth.
It's beautiful up here.

originally written 6/28/16
Bittersweet Apr 21

Silkiness trickles down my calves
Pencil protruding from a puncture wound
Yellow woods, stained crimson
Oh…. Nothing there

Eyes travel over blooming hair
Grassy greens into a sky blue
On a sticky afternoon
I’m glad she didn’t notice

The pencil finally ends its dance
And the figures start to breath
Penciled eyes blink, sweet mouths curve
Please talk to me

A slender figure dancing on the trees
Right outside my window
What a curious way to entertain me
Why don’t people see?

I hallucinate there’s a world around
With people crowding all around
I imagine some asking, pleading, begging me
Muffled voices murmuring.
Wake up darling.
Be alive and speak
That’s why it’s only a dream

This is the poem i'm proudest of. Glad to post it here.

i am the liquid rage u consume to,
sweat me in the blood you,
drop me foxy 5 Me O,
D-I-P-T,
collided with a chainsaw carving of a chainsaw,
carving gelatin figurines of wolverines,
stand back in my skull crusher's splinter twin,
and find mr. bones, i hefta make a plea to take this,
foxy out my brain, blow
rainbow holes connecting me to him,
lead me to the bedroom,
mr. bones,
is all alone,
objective one,
i am lebron james, and this is a conversation,
mr. bones agrees and now i know we gotta beat that trik,
white light, contaminated
strapped tight, go ahead and check my pockets,
for the souls i have devoured,
low in the hours,
face my wrists, the memory,
wont come to me.

no king, at a door
i am sofa king high,
or am i, being had again,
who is this bitch in here,
questioning,
jusify the why am in cohootz with,
RTI,
international, the nationals slow melt from nothing,
elemental magic Lords of deceivers,
stitched out from their flesh,
embryonic anti sources,
like roaches in day light,
how am i the chosen one,
capitally innovative,
i have no inspiriation,
money motivated so i guess i have to keep MY money rhymes,
and nobody wants to hear em dun,
sincerely, they aren't any fun,
do u have ur gun,
i have mine, and the crime,
is on live,  tube on 5,
boy aged 9, has just died,
oh why lord why,
self-immolation,
but its six,
a bag of six,
grams,
subsized by uncle sam.

Ren Feb 8

We all have demons
mine just so happen to have
FACES
and
LUNGS
and
HANDS.
An eye watches me
disembodied
floating a little way from my face.
I can feel something
living in my neck,
and it curls around my spine,
unsettled.
THE EYES THAT LIVE IN MY SCALP blink,
constantly blink.
it aches.
they blink together to some unknown metronome.
I try to ignore THE HANDS that grab at my head and shoulders,
gripping the sides of my head,
pressing into my temples.
My demons loom over me and BREATHE,
Cold gusts,
So cold..
I tremble in fear of the man who travels through dreams
and wonder how much HE KNOWS
and wonder if HE CAN SEE ME now
and is he GOD or DEVIL?
for now he is my DEMON
and on the back of my neck
I feel his EYES.

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