Passing out

I've been passing out lately. Bypassing my dreams. Only my daydreams remain. And even they are beginning to fade. Only brief moments of flights of fancy brave the harsh environment of my reality.

I've lost my "Dream come true". They were poisoned and mutated. By who, you ask? By people, of course. My reality is the tool they used. "My prayers have been answered" have been schemed against. There is always an assassin assigned to target my next fond memory.

My tortured dreams of regret, regretfully declined to stay. Like in a disaster movie I should have known when I saw the Black Crowes fly off en masse for other dreamscapes. I had begun to find comfort within them. I had so many of them to choose from. They were turbulent but still they gave me place to lay my head.

My dreams of anger and vengeance have exercised their out-clause. And in their rage have made their exit. They stormed over my subconscious. They raged through my waking moments. They trashed as they left my daydreams. I remember the nights, hot and bothered. Waking in a befuddled haze. For long moments not sure what was real and what was not. Feeling a hot anger and not sure if it was real. Now gone.

My intimate dreams. My dreams of private contact. My made-up thoughts of liaisons. Waking with the visible signs of fake passion. Or even just a beautifully clumsy first time. Then slowly crying back to sleep upon the realization it never happened. Those dreams have gone off and found other lovers.

My Grim Reaper dreams with Dark and Sinister. Cold and foreboding. Terrifying and Hell raising. Episodes of my end. Episodes of their end. Episodes of ends. Found pointless, so they were canceled. They ended. They have gone on vacation to the Bahamas. They now wear flowered paneled shirts and shorts.

My nightmares, my dear sweet nightmares. Hours upon hours of staring at the ceiling. Daring not to close not even one eye. Not one, until even the dream would come through with eyes wide open. The pit made manifest through the human mind. A place where the ill wishes of others take center stage and assist your darkest fears. My Sweet Nightmares. How many times have I awoken to the proof of your visit? Sweat, rapid breathing, fast and jerky movements, distorted views of shadows, derangement of location. My greatest lover has tired of me and left me.

Gone. All gone! And the ones who have not fled even now pack to go. More often than not my nights are filled with nothing. An Abyss, where there are no words. There are no feelings. I wake to a weightlessness that only leaves me confused. I awake now much like a vampire at dusk. But even a Vampire has dreams. But mine are gone. Now the time of my rest can only be marked by the noticed time of me passing out.