Things fade
along the edges.
The closer I come.
to clarity,
the faster it burns.
Overexposed,
light pollution,
photon poisoning.
Waking up in a state
of terrified
and total confusion.
One foot still in the dream,
the other off the bed,
looking for the floor,
getting ready to run.
Calm down,
it is just a bad dream.
Shake it off,
hit the shower,
have coffee.
Trapped in a subroutine,
where I’m repeatedly waking up
from the same dream
over and over again.
Starting to think
I’m not waking up at all.
I’m in a closed loop of days.
A mobius strip of consciousness.
Faded edges.
Scorched memories.
These things become
tiles in the foyer
of the entrance
to my broken down
memory palace.
I’m not afraid
to admit
these corridors go nowhere.
Just waking up,
falling asleep,
but not waking up,
and not really sleeping.
Only phantom interludes
before the whole thing
repeats itself.
It could be.
that I’m feeling a defined edge.
One thing that doesn’t fade,
or burn when I approach it.
Yes,
there’s something here.
I think.
I’m waking up again.
DJR – 2023
