I found the weeds in my pillowcase
Bits and pieces of nightmares
Each one unique, a fear on its own
I tried to bury them, hide them,
They stayed
Each one torments me
A private demon for each sense
Each one exploiting phobias unknown to mankind
Stealing the starlight
Changing the birds whistling to delighted shrieks
Turning the rain into dripping blood
Taking happiness and turning it into paranoia
I tried plucking the weeds in my pillowcase
They had deep roots, clinging onto the thin fabric
Each one with different leaves,
Yellow
Red
Green
Violet
Teal
Blue
Orange
Each leaf reflecting a human's worst traits
Greed
Wrath
Envy
Pride
Sloth
Lust
Gluttony
They were sprinkled on my pillow, I wanted them gone
Is the paranoia building or is it the weeds?
I can't tell reality from nightmares
My nightmares are bad, but reality is far worse
