This is a dream.
It is a bad dream, but it's almost over. In these moments my heart thrums with deadly flickering, as the nightmare grows steadily worse, and worse still. Awakening is heaven, and the dream is a prison. Mascara stains leech down the walls and accusations rise up all around me, currents of hot steam on an icy night. With each day I find my feet heavier. The monstrous slathering of a hound echoes in my ears. He is on my heels and I feel as though I cannot run much longer.
But I know nightmares. Eventually it will be too horrible to be real, and I will awake and be free. I'm close. I can tell. My fingers are shaking.
No comments:
Post a Comment