Waking from a dream, I felt the pressure
Of the dreams against my head.
This is uncommon, but it is unwanted.
I was trapped in the darkness of my mind,
And then I forced myself to wake from
The entrapment. It was my mistake.
You see, a monster was feeding on my dreams,
Hurting my head and forcing me to lie there
In such motionless agony.
So I saw it for a glimpse, a moment
That could be unbelievable but it was true.
It was a black on the walls that
Poured itself away back into the creases
Of the ceiling where it made me sit there
In shock of my own head.
The monster fed, but it died.
Dreams only bleed into the real world
When they're on the verge of death, and
They will attempt to take you with them.
YOU ARE READING
The Beginning To The End
PoetryI've never been a poet, that much is certain, but I can tell you that it does get written. A lot. These are the collections of my poetry I've written, and some of them hit hard for me.
