a letter to my dreams
i have spent years cowering in fear
at even the though of you
spent hours upon hours
agonizing over what comes next
there has never been any escape.
i have never been the sort
to dream of flying
i dream of monsters
with claws like knives
i dream of mazes
built over whispers of fear
i have dreamt of hails of bullets
so real i swear i could taste the gunpowder
i have lost the ones i love
to death, to hate, to myself
i have seen blood
and drowned in coursing rivers
what must be a thousand times
there is no escaping you.
what did i do
what happened to make this so cruel?
how many more times
must i wake in the middle of the night
only to gasp for breath and plead and cry
for a dreamless sleep
just one night
how many times
must i lose everything and everyone
how much longer must i lose myself
in fear of closing my eyes?
my dreams are not pretty things
nothing held dear
they are a constant reminder
that my biggest battle
is with myself

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