*If any of you out there are smart enough to realize it, yes, I stole a couple lines from Sell Your Soul by Hollywood undead*
Dreams are gateways for all the evil, the hate, the love, the fear, the explosion of random emotions and unstoppable unpreventable images in the world to come flooding into your heart while you’re the most vulnerable.
Dreams are that itch you can’t scratch, just out of reach- unattainable. Dreams are illusive mischievous creatures. Invisible, nonexistent, smoke. You can’t grab them, can’t keep them. They’re not yours.
Yet; I’m holding on so tightly now, my insides scream so loud. They keep watching, watching me drown. How did it come to this? The nightmares have no ownership, no authority, over my mind but I have no defense- no golden gate- against them. They come as freely as air through lungs, leaving toxic holes in my mind that fill with webs of fear.
Holes upon endless holes until nothing is left. Empty. Wind flies through my mind as I walk down the hall nonexistent- people looking through me. Wind, wind, wind carrying the dandy line seeds of my heart higher, higher, higher until they float through the holes in my head. They are free now but people don’t see them, they ignore the silly secrets of my heart that they carry, their feet crush them.
I’m broken.
I used to have dreams until the illusion of perfection was pulled from my eyes. Now? Now the nightmares are everywhere. What’s the difference? Nightmares and dreams- they’re both the same, neither is real, neither is to blame. To blame for the pain? To blame for the disappointment? For the hate? I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know! Stop yelling.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Please do shut up, it’s quiet time. The bubbly giggles of girls and flirtatious comments of guys temporarily fill the holes. I feel OK. Nothing is empty, nothing is broken, nothing is missing. Until I get home that is. I ignore it. It’s not there. What? Nothing’s there silly!
Well if you must ask I’ll tell you what’s not there! Hurt and betrayal and disappointment and mental disorders and girl on boy promiscuous activity and lies and false smiles. Those, my friend, are most certainly not there! It’s dark, I’m covered, hidden, shielded, protected.
REPEAT THE WORDS AND IT’S TRUE. The label on the synthetic-parental-reassurance pills says.
They’re defective, they don’t work. I fall asleep hoping for a break and get eaten alive. Knifes, blood, drugs, mind eating teachers, vicious fang-mouthed girls, how is this parallel universe any different from reality? How is reality any different from my dreams?
It’s all mixed up, muddled, confused. I’ve spilled the paint over life’s picture and can’t see anything anymore. Sleeping is prison, pinned to the bed by childish fears. Immobilized, paralyzed, stuck, left to drown while the holes find there way back again. Gnawing, eating, dissolving away my fake shield of laughter and bubble gum and hey-your-kinda-hot.
Please. Please. Please.
I want it to stop. I can feel it. Burning, singeing, erasing my memories of how it feels to be whole. I need it to stop. School won’t except damaged goods. Your friends won’t either.
Get better- they tell me. I’m trying.
Go to sleep honey. I’m dying.
I can’t keep going on this way. My heart beat stumbles as my back bone crumples, I feel is it real?
Of course it's not, it can't be. Can it?
