Posted by: normanlgreen | September 21, 2011

Dream, September 21, 2011 from the vault


As for last night, no measurable sleep.  So from a year ago:

 

The weight of my hands as I hold myself

The target times,

the lit green deadlines

that I wait for and watch pass,

so I may break promises to myself,

mark little betrayals.

Watching time eat itself.

Timers set throughout the house

pass their marks, are heard,

and go unheeded.

Dread buries me

as it sifts down from the ceiling,

and the coat grows thicker.

My hands lay as anchors on my chest.

Dream memory leaps away from me

to be replaced by an inanity.

The buzz of phrases and musical themes

steal the power to lift my body,

even as it runs through me,

an electric charge.

I will not scratch that itch

until it becomes unbearable,

then I will tear it with fury and unnatural speed,

then refreeze,

a moment of aberration.

I do not wish to check the mail,

check for messages, check myself.

I am in check,

with no sign that it will end,

other than a prediction

of getting up and going on.

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