i wrestled in my bed with sweat and demons
as madness tore into my febrile mind
the burning from inside that brooks no pretense
the loneliness that’s always there to find

across a rope-bridge chasm you were staring
amid a blaze of red and wild face
but no amount of shouting broke the silence
and no amount of running closed the space

but how your look seared into me with loathing
the river down below was all afire
i longed to bring you back and home to safety
but felt the platitude in my desire

in vision-tangled sheets i woke to humming
the sound of air-conditioned ambience
i rose to splash my face and drink some water
with little hope and little left of sense

i stare now at a screen that sits impassive
i’m not sure who i am or how i feel
it’s strange that after all the things i’ve been through
it’s only in my dreams
that life seems
real

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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