Nightmares

I open my eyes gasping for air,
Paralyzed, clenching my fists,
Lost in the never-ending whiteness between rumpled sheets and popcorn ceiling.
I finally breathe out slowly, as my skin ceases crawling,
Relieved to leave the dream realm behind...

I stand on the cold shower tray, as water runs down my flesh, soothing, healing;
Washing off the fears with the night sweat.
In simple music of the miniature artificial waterfall I hear somethings else;
I whisper to the streams:
It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing.
I wipe the misted-over mirror with my hand;
The deep-set grey eyes are now more colourless than ever,
The dark circles under them remind of empty sockets on a skull.
As the smooth unforgiving surface of the mirror mists over once again,
A shadow shifts quickly across the room.
I turn around swiftly, shaking,
But nothing is there...
Nothing is there, nothing is there, -
I mutter barely moving my thin pale chapped lips.
I eat my toast and drink my coffee.
It's dry and bitter much like myself.
The dark, burning hot liquid almost spills in my trembling hands,
It's scalding my mouth, my throat, falling into the bottomless pit of my stomach.
Hair on my head stands on end.
Something is there.
Something is there.
Something is there...

I thought I left the dream realm behind,
But the nightmares followed me into the waking.
I see them lurking in the shadows;
Their eyes burn bright among the brake lights on the road;
Their claws rattle with the rain;
Their warm noisome breath tickles the nape of my neck;
Their cold skin, rough but slimy, brushes mine, sending electricity to my bones...

My vision is blurred;
My hearing is inflamed;
My voice is flat;
My stomach is weak;
My heartbeat flutters;
I ache.
I ache all over.

I try to blame my fevered mind.
Nothing is there, nothing is there, nothing is there...

I sit in the office, my body - unmoving, my fingers - crawling over a keyboard;
Clacking of keys echoes in my head;
White ceiling, blinking blinding lights;
Grey walls, dark empty doorways;
White floor, black shiny roaches;
Grey skies, heavy leaden clouds.

My face is a mask, forever in disgust.
I'm looking for something but it's not here;
Something is lost, something is wrong.
A stale toast, again.
Bitter coffee, again.
Agony, still.

I take the bus home;
It's long and narrow, has no colour.
Like a coffin.
I sit in a worn dirty seat.
The bus is shivering and shaking, roaring and whimpering, freezing, burning.
Like a living creature.
Like me.
People around me are absent, with their wax faces staring into nothing, staring into me.
Rain is rattling outside, brake lights are blinking, streets are breathing fumes.
I am being followed.

The bus doors open, screeching, I fall out, unable to breathe;
I run home, falling down, getting up, never turning back.
I search for the key frantically.
The door opens, the door shuts.
I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe!
But nothing is there, I know,
Nothing is there.
I smile in agony and relief,
Baring my teeth, loose and yellowish.

The darkness outside devours the skyline putting out lights in the glass eyes of the buildings.

The apartment is quiet, the windows are shut.
The rooms smell of air fresheners and rot.
Not a life but a landfill,
Not a person but a pile human waste.
Every morning I come out of this septic tank,
Into a bleeding world;
And every night I come back in...
Weak.
Exhausted.
Downtrodden.
I come out. I come in.
Come out. Come in.
Out. In.
Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In.
And only the nightmares in between.

I stare at the bed.
White.
I look around the room.
Ceiling, walls, floor coming together, blurring, blending into one.
I am suspended in space.
In time.
I am screaming in my head.
Darkness grows out of the corners, spreads like mould.
I fall on the white island made of cotton, feathers, and springs.
I wrap myself in sheets and blankets, and pillows.
I fill myself with pills.
White.
To rest, to sleep.
I will be safe under the covers.
Safe from what?
Nothing is there, nothing is there, nothing is there...
I know.

I feel...
Something is there.
Darkness swallows the dim lights.
It fills the room.
It envelopes me.
The nightmares lie in wait, shrouded in the void.
I can see nothing now, I hear nothing.
Only blackness.
Emptiness.
I am suspended. I am surrounded. I am consumed.

I close my eyes holding my breath,
Numb, my palms flat out,
Lost in the infinite blackness between a gaping doorway and window into nothingness.
I finally breathe in slowly, as needles penetrate my skin.
I step across the threshold of the dream realm...
It closes up behind me.
Among the shadows of broken dreams, I belong.

I open my eyes, gasping for air...
But I am not awake.

Among the shadows of broken dreams, I belong.
I belong to the dream realm.