Isn’t it interesting when realities become nightmares.
I toss and turn at night, crying in my sleep as my heart rebreaks in a dream. Mind of mine, let me lay in peace. I do not wish for his face to haunt me and I do not wish for the future to taunt me. Let me rest. Let me recover. Life is challenging enough without your dark reflections and introspections.
I wish to lay still; to be still.
This is my world
Colored with rainbows and sunshine
Colored with shadows and rain
This world is mine
Thriving with innovation
Thriving with deprivation
This world – internalized
Dying with old age and excitements
Dying with abuse and pollutants
The room is filled with darkness and I can feel nothing accept the aching in my chest. It restricts each breath with anxiety creeping through my veins. Then there is light and I see someone; a man. We’re in a wood house. Wind sweeps through the cracks of the wood with a whisper. I hear a baby crying. The man, I know him. I trust him. He does not speak a word, but tells me to follow him. The light shifts and we are elsewhere. The baby crying is louder now. I try to ask where the baby is, but no words form. A girl twirls, her hair flying around. Her giggles echo with the sounds of the crying baby. I almost smile at her joy, but she stops. She looks at me, or faces towards me. Her face does not exist. It’s a blur of non existence, yet I know she is laughing and crying. Facing her pain with hysteria. My stomach cringes and the man grabs my wrist. We go up a wooden ladder. I hear the screams of the baby. Once we are in the room, like a loft, the man dissappears. There is something on the floor, screaming. I tremble. I fear what has happened to the baby. As i step forward to glance at the baby, the man reappears. He thrusts me forward.im standing over the baby. But it doesn’t look like a baby. It has some light brown fur. It’s body looks mangled and twisted. But it has the face of a baby. A scrambled and frightening face, but the face of a baby nonetheless. I attempt to scream, but all goes silent. All goes dark. I open my eyes.
I am part of one the one percent of the general population that has chronic nightmares, multiple nightmares every night. When ever I have the time, I will be blogging any nightmares I remember. Join me for the terror.
Bring to me my soul, dear heart ache. Where have you hidden me under this heart break. I wish to find me, so heartache reveal all you know. After all, you are my oldest foe. What have you learned, holding me close? You must show, for it is I that I do not know. Heart ache, familiar enemy, tell me where you’ve hidden me.
thinkwithdepth 