Lucid

Writing

Whatever dreams may come, I’m ill-prepared for them all. I’m not afraid of the lucid moments that accompany me as I lay down. Often times when I wake up, I hardly remember what’s real and what isn’t.

Last night, I could close my eyes, yet I couldn’t fall into the dream state.

I’ve been losing hours of sanity as I lay awake into the dark hours of the night. A blended reality as I walk away from my bed. I walk around in a haze, and think of the million dirty ways that I could corrupt your stable mental state. You soak up my dirty potions and become entangled in me. Light flashes before my eyes. It’s all an illusion though, you aren’t truly there and you aren’t in my arms and we haven’t danced in seduction yet.

I begin to think I’m still lying in bed. Yet visions keep playing through my head. Therapeutic mental sessions of lust overwhelm me as I drunkenly waltz down the hall to reach the bathroom.

A sound blares through my ears I’m not sure what it is so I play it off as if it were water drops on my shoulder, and I see duplications of our seductive therapy as I look back down the hall.

Thin lines of reality are roughly handled by my conscious mind and begin to breed a new world.

I’m beginning to think that I’m asleep and I can’t wake up, not sure what to call it but I’m beginning to not feel myself.

Phones rang with opportunity for me to fall into dreams; I’d rush to them with my eyes heavy, hoping that they didn’t hang up before I got there. So often I couldn’t reach the phone without stumbling stupidly.

Tripping over memories and thoughts that shouldn’t have flooded my head I fail to reach the opportunity.

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