Throughout the day, I remember bits and pieces. Seconds of
clutched breath where my ribs feel depleted and I fight to take in a breath.
Moments where I sense a heat searing my neck, curling the hairs growing there. Hours
where I wish the earth would crack and swallow me whole.
I can’t imagine I’m alone in this.
Nightmares have a ghastly way of affecting ourselves in
real-life. Because of the sheer mental creation of them, it’s not really
possible to ignore their suggestions. One’s own brain isn’t something they can shut out and pretend doesn’t exist. So I suppose dreams don’t occur in a
fake-life at all. Sleeping must be a part of real-life.
I suppose dreams are so
frightening because of how real they are.
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