It is nightmare season again.

I dream heavy and wake with bruised limbs. The fear is visceral,
the images frenetic and tremulous. Hair and trees,
the ocean's drag, loyalties tested and
the forgotten are resurrected in the twilight land of the living dead.

Swept away,
I drown and fight the sheets.
The next night I succumb gloomily to the cerebral slaughter again,
the war that lasts until sunrise.

One day the sun will fail to wake me, and
I'll creep forever in the world of shadows,
a soul that used to be someone with a dream to live.