Hours pass
The clock’s ticking calls them
Before long,
And as every night,
They beset me

Syringes in hand
Parched and vacuous
Bolstering the cysts of regret
Which crack my skull
And envenom my mind

As the dismay takes hold
I awaken
Bitter sweat
It clings to me
Makes me feel as a toad

But this vile body
Sleeps not alone
She places her hand on my face
And breathes slowly
Never vacant, just as the air

Like a coat of fresh snow
She drapes over me
Not repulsed by my fear
And my shivering form
Lies no longer fearful of the cold

She hums to me
A lullaby born of her lips
As she places them on my cheek
I shatter
As do the shadows around me

From broken glass
She builds a mosaic
Bright red from her bloody fingers
Warmer than the sun
More vibrant than its setting

Though when the envious morning comes
She is gone
I wonder if she was ever really there
Or if perhaps
She was my fading hope
Come to save me from the nightmares
One last time

-Galwyn

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