Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rose May 25
Death of love is a familiar form
Foreshadowed this heart forlorn
I didn't fear while I was under
The dark figure at my feet
Whom judged me so rightfully
For that, I wish I had an explanation
Above all else
I experience fairly intense and random periods of sleep paralysis coupled with auditory and visual halluscinations. I never feel the cold sweat or my pounding heart until I come out of it. While I'm in it, there is no fear. Only acceptance. Only observance on both parts. Is this my mind manifesting a figure to judge me so I don't judge myself? Is it stress induced? Will I ever know? Probably not. All I can do is try to take care of others and live a life of conviction. In relationships, when it's time to give up, dont wait. Never worry about someone who doesn't worry about you. Never spend your energy trying to continue being close with people who won't ever truly understand you. I never take my own advice.
Darkness without a sound,
Until I hear that door creak
Sweating under the covers,
Until chills of fear creep

Is it all a cruel prank?
Is someone in this room?
Is it all in my head,
or is this figure standing in loom?

Heart is in my throat
Tears are in my eyes
I hold my breath
I gasp a soft cry

Wake up, wake up
This is not a dream
Open your eyes sit up
It is what it seems

Someone is here
I am not alone
I try to move, I can’t
Sound erupts a low drone

In Brazil the pisadeira  (she who steps)
Known as different names
By all cultures
Whom have wept

To me she is the old hag
Stealer of my breath
I hope she will not be my taker
The reason for my death
For anyone who has experienced sleep paralysis aka. the old hag; aka. Pisadeira; aka. Phi Am
Jon Thenes Mar 24
Are thieves ants ?
And are ants up on my pillow ?
Can't count all the trees
that villain up the wallpapers
Immurked
In silent non-light

A Percher weighs himself upon my chest
Fidgeting and hurting the spurring of my breath
I can't speak to he
Nor he to me
I've not made any friends here
I'm always the quiet one.

The tools of the drapes make-eye new fashion
I yawn in-breath the scenery
Til I'm replumbed a fear familiar
I've not taken note
And they'll be a cell toss in the sorrow light
And stern disused adults
With their 'on clockwork troubles'

I turn in this muffle scape
I'm feverless and struggling
In the ample warm bright shade
Capsized in an umbrella
Of an altered canopy nest
Lovingly bed laid
And to the falling
And fawn the ceiling
Well in for teething
Water floats the basin
Town in for weening
The coast of new morning
I gorm to life
Jump started and fit fused
From the perspective of a bad night of sleep. Told nonsensical to match the wax and wane of the dreamworld and the ‘Real’. Aspects of sleep paralysis and infiltration of the visual room in which the irrational slumber took face. Kind and fearful but more at comfort in which world ? All my strive used to be this way... t’was in days when I was less active against my disorder and pandered to its practice oft. Interesting results but impractical depression.
NoBoDy Mar 8
Suddenly my eyes are open
  I can't move what is it I am supposed to do?
             Heavy Breathing (Gasp)
Am I Dying?
               I struggle to move (Hmph)
Is someone sitting on me?
I move my eyes
Total Darkness
I hear footsteps
My breathing gets heavier.
I pray The Our Father.
I can move
I can breath
But I know I am not alone.
Maryan Abdi Feb 20
The ceiling grew in size.
My vision became blurred.
I began to see nothing but black.  
I struggled to move.
My body felt as if it was being constrained.
I couldn’t speak.
My voice was gone.
I couldn’t do anything.
I felt helpless.
I felt paralysed.
kenny Feb 3
Just pop this Quetiapine
And it's quiet time for me
I just wish you wouldn't choke me to sleep
Just laying there , knowing you’re awake but feeling asleep
You feel suction cupped to your bed by your blankets
Your pillow slowly accumulating moisture from sweating
Your dreams alive but reality won’t let you accept it
Both eyes closed but there’s only one possibly peeled
You might sleep with your third eye open too ..
Its 1:24
I lay here as the insomnia takes me
The usual
The reoccurring nightmare
Can’t sleep
I think of you
I can't move
I see you
Let me sleep
sleep paralysis is taking my life over. I fear sleep
Aseh Jan 4
you were too much like a nectarine
in early summer. All poreless and bright
and insinuating sweetness. Filled me up
with your secret eruption then shut me down
with your sleek silver tongue. Lava barricaded my eardrums,
enhancing my blood, fire in your eyes.
I was a plum, stealing forth
in the wake of your Augustine heat. My tender skin
gave way to your deft touch.

But then I bit down,
tasted the flesh beneath your glossy sheen
and oh how it betrays you!
So yellow and unripe, so taut with newness,
still clinging to the brightness of dawn,
spring-frozen with fear of the darkness
of my nectar.

Today I woke up with a magnet
in my pitted stomach. Echoes of
cold metal scour my throat. That love-
-less twang in the aortal penumbras--hope,
a refuge swallowed by the ephemeral night.
I always knew
you were too much like a nectarine
in early summer.
Alexander Foe Dec 2018
When my hands
succumb into numbness,
When my feet
descend into paralysis,
Would it catch your sight?

Will my little whimper
fading into silence,
Would it touch gently down
on your ears?

When the last
Spirit and Breath
Dissipates

Will anyone bat an eye?
Would it mean anything

Around the cacophony, as I die?
Next page