Hypnagogia

Hold on through the night.

They’re just dreams.

They can’t hurt you.

The damage is already done.

It’s just your mind

trying to preserve you.

 

Making sense

of things

that never made sense,

isn’t easy in the morning.

You open your eyes,

and when your feet touch the floor,

you no longer hear the warnings.

 

This is who you are,

in the night,

when in the day you hide

behind your mask,

your make-up,

and your lies.

Your dreaming self denied.

 

It’s who you really are,

when you find out you can fly,

or when you’re about to die.

You fall back

into your bed,

into your head

and cry.

 

It’s so hard to make sense,

of what doesn’t make sense.

Who you are today,

navigating this existence.

One when you’re asleep,

another after dawn,

in one place,

you escape,

the other you can’t face at all.

 

Hold on through the day.

The night will come again,

and with it,

all the triumph,

and the terror,

that lives inside your brain.

 

Hold on,

through the work day,

through the school day,

through that long and awkward state.

The night awaits,

at the end of it all

to take us all away.

 

 

HG – 2020

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