dream journal

the fog presses against the brain.
it is thick, the deep aqua haze
slips through flickering lashes and
parted lips. the imagination stops
and instead of flying high, I am
forced to replay the haunting
poltergeists of my adolescence.
like vinyl stuck on a strand of hair,
scratching and skipping the
chorus. a film reel that won’t stop
replaying and burning, showing
my very own horror film.
their forms are familiar and yet
faceless, mannequins that jeer
and scream. I can’t breathe, but
my eyes are burning before I even
wake up.

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