Under My Sofa

Dripping Dreams

They drip like technicolor tears trickling from the corners of our mind,
Acid burning through the flesh of logic and leaving structureless ruin behind
So much is cut away that support is futile, too precariously aligned
Lemon wedge sunshine is bitter-bright enough to grant respite of a kind

The insoluble cotton wool cobwebs are dissolved in a cloudy ocean of tears
The long living, life limiting, love loaning ode to false fears
Or else coiled like candy-floss around the rapidly rotating axis that steals years
The sight of a sniper that shoots singeing shots into the shadows as sleep sears

Fluttering fires that flicker with fluorescent light in the places we forgot
Illuminating the thoughts and fears that are buried behind boxes with locks
So we thought they'd be safe, secure, secret, but flames fidget through the lot
Wriggling into rusted keyholes and nimbly slipping through knots

They're fluid as water and hot as fire,  preying on the ones that we wouldn't expect
It's not those that sleep long, they twist through the loops and expertly deflect
It's the ones who lack practice, the ones who are wrecked
The ones who close their eyes every few days and instantly they connect

As if by some toxic uplink in their dizzying minds, that plugs them in every damn time
Let their eyes fall shut and they find themselves entangled in a web of grime
Bitter bones, malignant memories, pieces of picturesque perfectness sublime
Twisted into alpha helixes and beta pleated sheets, into ricocheting rhyme

Every thought that we believed was gone, it was never buried, just embedded deep
Only to take control of fragile minds and harvest pain from the fields it's simple to reap
It's the memories that stalk with murderous blades and crackling joy that we wish we could keep
That mixed mayhem together and misaligned souls at the onset of sleep

Dreams drip dry through dark heads, and tears trickle from tightly shut eyes
Sleep is for the weak is just one of our bitter-bright lies
Weak, weak, and awake all the time, roller coasting through lows and glorious highs
Take a moment to shut down and sleep reigns with nightmarish dreams until the moment we rise

Nightmares aren't real, but their foundations dig deep and true
Cyanide seeds that germinated and grew
Parasitic roots working down into minds and sucking up all we knew
Every waking moment living in fear that they'll dig their way through

And drip like acid with our real tears into the real world and burn real lines down the skin of our cheeks
We don't sleep. It is us that are weak.

***

Day four, and I'm beginning to wonder whether committing in to this challenge was incredibly stupid.

But I'm sure I'll manage.

To those of you taking part in the challenge along with me, thanks for your commitment! It's definitely encouraging me not to give up.

Alex xxx