Why do my dreams keep haunting me, like some strange shade of the past?
It’s over, it’s gone, the end has come and went.
Death always surrounds the workings of my mind,
Digging and burrowing into the
Deepest
Of my unconscious moments.
He sits on the end of my bed and watches me
….. waits
                ….. and waits
                                       ….. and waits…
He waits until I’m still and vulnerable and comes to greet me like an old friend.
Gentlest touches, not enough to harm.
But simply to remind me what the world really is.