The nightmares I have in my mind while my eyes are open are far worse than the nightmares I have when I lie my head down on the pillow.
I’d much rather awaken to me falling than to breathe through these thoughts of loved ones dying.
I often wonder if I’d awaken to find that it’s all just an imaginary dream
But everything’s the same day by day night by night
I’d much rather be having sleep nightmares than awake nightmares at least the nightmares when I’m asleep give me a break.
Do you ever get a break ?

Missouri
I'll awaken myself to avoid bearing witness
The ex of my first became the rebound of my last
No ******* way

(Inspired by Carlo C Gomez’s ‘The Lacemaker‘)

We’re manufactured girls,
designed to be beautiful and pointless.

Everything we tell you has to be true,
we feel we can open up to you.

We’re decorated and prepared for sacrifice.

We can touch your tender isolation
and reinforce your inadequate truths.

We can mirror your internal struggles
and help you shape your damnation.

You’ve caressed our powerless distress
a thousand times, with sleep's dark hands.

Don’t feel your destroying something beautiful

You know, when privately accessible
in the darkness of your man cave
our soft, immediate shapes
excuse extraordinary behavior.

That’s all we want.
.
.
A song for this:
Genesis. by RAYE

i don’t know if it’s the noise
or the sweat
or the feeling of hands pressing on my neck
that wakes me up

but there i was, strapped to a hospital bed
pushed into the forbidden oblivion
of all the kind men who punched me in the face
when all i asked for was forgiveness
for not acting as if it was arousing

you’re giving me a big grin
as you lay your scrubs on the floor
and tell me how much i wanted it
but am i really enjoying it
if i wake up looking for your blood under my nails?

as you unzip my jeans
i scream for my mother,
since she’s as good at killing men
as I am at reaching out to murderers

you'll ask yourself why I can't sleep
but please, don't make me sleep ever again
and i'll never look you in the eyes once more
you'll tell yourself I'm just autistic
but the truth is to this day
I'm still afraid of the wrong men

the world became a dark place
when my dreams came true
along with my nightmares.

I weave words into woods
and forests of dreams
feeding your fear with stories
of giants and beans
stalks and straws
cracked golden eggs
scrawny fingers
a glass eye and
wood for a leg
to aid your sleep
come werewolves and bears
ghosts and ghouls
for a nicer nightmare
so come now hither
come to the deep
and dream
a dream my dear
if you dare to sleep