I saw you last night in my dreams.
We were together or so it seemed.
The house was dark and not my own,
and something hidden chilled me to the bone.

It darted from dim corners into bleak rooms.
Fast, so very fast, did it move.
What it wanted I do not know,
But I do know one thing... I feared for my soul.

The wicked creature's presence could not be tempered with your embrace.
In fact, if you hadn't been there I may have given chase.
But you grabbed me and held me back.
And honestly, I don't know how I feel about that.

These monsters are mine, and I demand they stay that way.
Of my own will and volition, I will make them dissipate.. someday.
You make it too easy to forget my goals and purpose,
To hunt down these issues, find them, and have them murdered.

But fret not, because I forgive you.
When I say this please believe me: It is I, not you, that is the issue.
Its unlike me to care,
But please, please... heed my warning. YOU MUST BEWARE.

When I awoke, I was dripping with sweat.
I scanned my dark room, only to find my demons manifest.
And all at once, it became just too real.
Perhaps it wasn't a dream at all... but a depiction of how I feel.
I official don't like to sleep anymore. You may be able to run from your feelings and emotions while awake. Just keep moving, not thinking, and you'll be fine. However, in your sleep they easily invade your mind.
Warm up
Listening to intuition
Hands full
Cast as a wallpaper
Time traveler
Witnessed the disgrace
Can’t explain more
Stereotype, eccentric?
Towards a familiar face
Being a neophyte
With a marijuana life
Switching gears into auto pilot
Floated with no gravity
Clarity, that makes no sense
Unseen, unheard but close to heart

A selection bias
Let the Adrenaline rush
Dream or nightmare?
Claws sharper than Scalpel
Waiting for a response
“Yes” is the answer
Proof of life
Night with an open eyes.
God’s mistake
All come with an expiration date.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
Sanny 6d
Along with the spring sun the memories of my long lost love arises.

The memory fragments are getting pieced back together.

I see him in strangers on the street,
looking for him though I know he's not here..

I know it's stupid, the person I miss no longer exists.

The harsh reality turned my dreams into nightmares.

His lies and deceptions are now haunting me in my sleep.

There's no place left for him and I to be.

Waking up, memories fresh, aching heart.

Lips longing for the bottle, like so many nights before.

Anything to drown the hope of something that'll never be.

And the pain of a time that was..
Umi Feb 16
Under an unending sky surrounded by flowers from ones own dream,
This is where I'd find rest.
An eternal rest for the dream yet remains endless and the night everlasting.
The world I see, feels so unreal, I wouldn't want to reopen my eyes.
If the possibility, the chance to never waking up when I have gone to find slumber tonight, it would certainly be alright.
A nightmare which is hunting me even whilst I am in full of my consciousness, a hell without rebirth,
The sunlight, simply out of reach, unable for my eyes to engage in it's warming, comforting, sweet grasp anymore, the moon shines bright.
Sound melts into silence, the city loses its colours yet the flowers remain, blooming in elegance, standing proud in the reflection of the sun's light which once again has overshined the twinkling stars.
Even if tomorrow were never to come,
I would not be able to care about it in any way possible.
For now just let me rest my eyes.

~ Umi
Inspired by my friend Alex
I will be your sweetest dream, or your worst nightmare
One taste of me and you've already begun to Sin, so tell me will good or evil win?
smc Feb 13
He flings her boots at her, and she watches in slow motion as they land, spraying dust and dirt from the barn. She had, earlier that week, worn those boots as she sang to the horses to calm her mind on a sleepless night. Promises shattered, she scrambles to pick up her boots, losing him and the horses, her only place of solace. Hope is gone. Her ears ring with his words, a broken record, only days earlier: “Come on home, honey.”

She had unearthed a fossil...

A slight bump, pearly white, attracts her eye. As she slowly brushes the dirt off the surface, she sees the bones: the hollow, dull eye sockets, disturbing jut of a dislocated jaw, gaping mouth. She notices how deep it is buried--the tip of an iceberg. Then, just as she puts her brush down to look closer, the wind, a whispered warning, stirs a cloud of dirt that settles over the remains, filling the holes and smoothing the jagged edges. In an instant, she forgets, consciously choosing to disregard those feelings of disturbance. She picks up her brush and hesitates, torn between logic and temptation. Compelled, entranced, she gingerly touches the bristles to the dirt. Maybe it won't be ugly this time; perhaps it wasn't as disturbing as she thought. She could have made it up--just her mind playing tricks on her. If she trusts her hesitation, though, she foregoes the excitement of discovery. But she has already seen what lies beneath. A glimpse should have been enough.

She cannot look away. Hesitation is devoured by anxiety; compulsion grows stronger, takes control. And she lets it.  She sweeps the bristles slowly at first then picks up speed, furiously sweeping away the earth. She should have trusted that tug of hesitation, should have left the brush and walked away. She didn't want to see it; she looked anyway. The image, horrifying, discolors her own skin to match the gray of the bones. Frozen, petrified, she watches worms slither through cracks in the skull. The head is twisted and detached, unnaturally askew. The ribs are shattered, by knife or gunshot, where the heart once was.

She punishes herself. Self-loathing swells and festers as she resentfully reflects on her choice to dispel her better judgment. She avoids mirrors, afraid to see skin that remains gray. The horrifying truth of what she chose to uncover disturbs her dreams.

I awake, coughing, disoriented, clothes adhered to skin by cold sweat. Anxious, hollowed, robotic, I reach for a cigarette.
from "The Story of Ky" by smc
It burns
Drive it in then twist
Drive away then sleep
It burns
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