No Good Night


The anger turns within,

metastasizes there,

growing into your soul,

maybe you’re unaware

that the dividing line

between what you feel

and what is real,

is you.


Dreams are all nightmares.

There is no “Good-Night”,

just a descent into Hell,

praying you wake each night.

Begging for this to end,

it’s a beguiling force,

shaping your waking hours;

you are what you dream,

of course.


Our skins haven’t touched,

our lips have never spoke,

our tongues haven’t formed the words,

yet it’s an inside joke.

Tension and could-have-beens

make us so vulnerable,

that when I turn away,

you feel horrible.


We have never shared a moment

that’s worthy of revenge,

but when once feels wronged,

what do they do then?

I’ve heard the best recourse

is in living well,

but instead we burn,

turn living into Hell.


On purpose, or mistake,

careless, or by design;

we manifest our dreams,

make real what’s inside.

Not like we have a choice,

made in the maker’s mind,

we form reality;

it’s what we leave behind.


When we are gone,


in the endless dream.

What will we make then?

What will we see?

Will we be free

from pain

and manifest only beauty?

Who knows?

You know how it goes.

Dreams are horrible truths.


HG – 2018



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