It's so scarily grim
That I see the dead in my sleep
Those who are still alive but cannot be with me
It's so horribly sick
That I see the dead in my wake
They are born in the shadows as the light fades away
And so every night
I fight with myself,
Deciding which hell I would like
And yet every night
I lose to myself, to
Demons walking the realms without light
Until sleeping feels real
And reality is filled with
Visions that make it seem fake
For the monsters I see
Will not leave me alone
Whether I am asleep or awake
YOU ARE READING
Shattered Reflections
Poetry"There was a moment in my life when I could not tell the difference between a window and a mirror. I could look into both and see everything but myself." Rudy Francisco, Helium - Windows and Mirrors A diary of sorts, to help me to remember.
