Dare to Dream

I dare close my eyes,
to be still and content,
despite the blackness,
threatening ascent,
almost instantaneously,
feeling rapid descent,
but it’s not black,
where was I sent?
it’s all so bold,
and lines are bent,
in technicolor,
with vivid accent,
non-linear and sharp,
the not-shapes torment,
rippling hues spinning,
a vortex of dissent,
hands and fingers paw at me,
a sea of malcontent,
a sensory kaleidoscope,
I’m overwhelmed, spent,
rapid breath in all blues,
but it’s stuck like cement,
I can’t feel my skin,
is this going to relent?
am I still sleeping?
where have I went?
if this is dreaming,
I don’t give my consent,
bring back the blackness,
this is not what I meant

-image via Pixabay

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Clean Slate

Tell me, do you see me?
Or am I just a dream?

My being feels it’s moving 
My thoughts are racket-grooving

Tell me, are things as they seem?

Cuz, when I speak no sound escapes
And in the mirror, I have your shape

Tell me, do you see me?
Or am I just a scheme?

Could my heart be playing very cruel tricks?
Cuz, I’m starting to feel rather sick

In my gut I have this twisted feeling,
Telling me your heart is tired, needs some healing,

Perhaps you need something from me?

Am I but a harrowed memory,
Playing repeat on your screen?

For, it seems to me the reel is stuck,
Your feelings are running all amuck,
And you wish you could be freed

Tell me, how do you see me?
What does this all mean? 

Oh, God! I just realized – 
Perhaps I’m better as unseen
And I wish that I could find a way,
To wipe your weary slate clean

-image credit My Body My Image

Powerless

waking behind closed eyes,
she was parched with panic,
damp fear making its way
to the surface of her skin

its ominous presence made known

it wasn’t anywhere in particular;
it was all-the-places,
taking up all the space,
ready, hungry, waiting

it was here for her

she could feel its soul salivating,
its stifling need, heavy in the air,
her breathing labored,
the air freezing in gasps in her lungs

it wants to diminish her

with all her will,
she struggled to pry open her eyes,
her brain certain to make it so,
each individual muscle desperate to cooperate

it allowed no sight

frantic, her voice gathered all its strength to scream,
urgent cries heaving within her chest,
it’s stifled agony glued to the tip of her tongue 

it allowed no sound

arms tensing to throw back the covers,
her feet begged to run and run and run,
all of her muscles rigid with yearning,
threatening to snap

it allowed no movement

so it was she accepted her fate,
breathing slowing in surrendered trembles, muscles giving way to exhaustion,
and eyes which no longer needed opening in order to see,
shed involuntarily tears

it allowed them

~image found on Pinterest, and the words are bringing to life a recurring dream I had long ago, shared in response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Tale Weaver, The Dark Side Challenge