the dull yet searing taste of cinders

[chytah]

it is said that the waking world is cold and cruel,
with little in the way of outs the only escape lies in drink, departures and dreams
or so it is also said

but in dreams lie that unraveling deep fears that there really is no running from
those waking nightmares that haunt the deeper shadows of your mind and find flesh when eyes are closed

whether it be an old wound that does refuses to cease throbbing and tearing or overwhelming feeling of depair borne from a tragic moment, the moment refuses to pass as an actual event appears to be stuck in a neverending loop of repeat and torture.

quite apart from unhealing scars, there are also nightmares of things yet to come, these bear no less intensity than those and perhaps are worse for they are borne entirely of the imagination tinged with the worst bits of personal experiance.

for those fearful of spiders, grasping their way out of a cocoon of crawling biting nipping arachnoids,the dawn sun would be a welcome relief and a warm shoulder should wash the unease away.

for those afraid of being boxed in, the morning and the free air and running free would find their breath restored.

yet there are some dreams that do not dissipate in the morning light...
maybe the demon child of too much thought