A Carnival Nightscape

In dreams, I am spun on a wheel,

strapped to the wall,

round and round till

dizziness sets in.


And I see roygbiv swirls.

Frightens me with static,

heavily painted smiles hidden

behind candy-striped poles.

The carousel sweeps by,

blurring this netherworld.

An organ plays on a loop,

bordering on paranoia.

A twisted scenery generated

within my cranium,

where I’m alone and

surrounded by warped mirrors,

reflecting back at me

rich horrors.

And clownish laughs echo around me,

ricocheting off corners of this freak show.

A nightmare.

I could run, but fleeing the

circuit of madness is impossible.

After all, my morbid brain has black walls,

strong as a fortress,

no exit,

just a downward facing spiral

caught in between two fantastical realms.

Abstraction and concrete reality.

The nightmare drops me,

yielding to my consciousness,

and I hit the mattress with a stinging pain.

Eyes open to tunnel vision.

Delving out of that throbbing

black hole, all I see are

maroon, opaque fractals in empty space,

a universe.

They swarm around my sweat-drenched body,

reminding me that

dreams are just dreams,

nightmares are just


R.E.M. sleep



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