I cannot say when the switch flipped.

My dreams were once of tomorrow; of tasks to do, of things to become, and of love to find.

Now I dream of yesterdays; of loved ones gone, of goals achieved, and of places been.

But I cannot put my finger on it… on just when that switch was flipped?

When I close

my eyes

sometimes

there's nought,

nothing

to be sought,

a space

where I can

lose myself,

perhaps

cease

to be,

for a moment

or a sleep.

Others I see

faces I've

never known,

some transform

before

my eyes

my lids

a screen

for worlds

unknown

and sights

unseen;

sometimes

they make me

want to scream

or paint

or write,

to tell the tales

of darkest night

that come to light

when eyes

are blind

but see,

a universe

created

by

me.

Trying to keep my eyes open as visions of colorful fractals dance in my minds eye.

Dreaming but awake in a state of holding on to one last night. Touching toes in the river sleep I try to keep my legs dry.

I feel my body tingle and begin to fade away, darkness engulfs my vision and my body drifts slowly through my mattress into the next dimension. Works of color explode in my mind, it’s almost like I can hear them, touch them, the background sounds like the white noise of a large crowd.

Slowly my eyes close, the river has taken all my legs chest chin and before It hits my nose a quick scream in my ear jolts me awake. No fractals not a sound around me laying my head back down I wonder was that the river trying to let me drown.

behind closed eyes

someone new awaits me

a face i forget when i arise

if i sleep now i may remember

that someone a mix of strangers I used to recall

their name, puts a memory in my mind

their eyes, my heart's downfall

I know our time is nearly up

I'll awake alone in bed

but just a few minutes more

as we lay together newlyweds

Dragons, shut up about the fucking dragons. The commercial plays on repeat as I try to close my eyes and go to sleep. I used to be able to just roll over but now I have to distract myself with Hoarders to go to sleep. I think about how cool a clean hoard that was shaped like a fortress would be. Strategically assembled to be safe and secure and allow easy passage. A cozy place for me to pretend to be a dragon, squirreling my belongings away where I can rest in peace.

tired

behind the wheel

and every time i blink i'm haunted

by visions of what could be.

if i close my eyes

and let myself slide

broken glass

paralysis

the loss of life.

tired

behind the wheel

but i'm not allowed to blink

because i know what happens

when i close my eyes.

The screens are static—

invisible to the wandering eyes and the interested ears—

ringing loudly of harsh noises.

only a flash of pain…

gagged, touched, screaming—

and everything is gone.

reality takes a toll— surrounding one with a short burst of …

silence, quietness, no sound—

why is it so quiet?

breaking the sanity when it strikes- breathless, scared, alone—

all disappearing is flashes…

Only to come back in heat waves…

again—and again— and again—

heartless rage-colorless love-vicious heart- round and round again.

darkness mumbles— voices whisper— only to leave when light has again shone to reveal day.

threatening to be made known again come dusk.

Behind closed eyes,

it's just me

where I can be free

where worries can't find me

where I can take a deep breath

where my mind can wander

where my thoughts can be heard

where I can reflect life

and just let it be.

When I close my eyes, I enter a world all my own. Sometimes, I find myself in the midst of a familiar, comfortable place, surrounded by loved ones. Other times, I carefully construct a scene to suit my mood – a clear, sunlit sky above a wide field of flowers; raindrops drumming a steady beat on the roof of a remote cabin; the dark, cool stone hallways of a gothic castle.

When I close my eyes, I create stories. I have conversations with people from my past or present, who now only say what I expect them to, and I always respond intelligently. I have adventures in places I have never been with people who exist only in my mind. I sail on the ocean like the most formidable pirate, duel a swordsman with agility and skill, explore the remote jungle, climb the tallest mountain, get swept off my feet by my one true love.

When I close my eyes, I become the best version of myself. I am young and strong and beautiful. I am wise beyond my years; kind but never soft. I am persistent, courageous, and determined.

When I open my eyes, I hope my writing can incorporate just a fraction of the excitement and passion I feel behind my closed eyes.

I close my eyes and I know I’ll fall for anything that drops from those beautiful lips.

When he stirs his fingers I think he knows how to strum every part of me.

It’s a slow burn that spreads to every part of me.

He doesn’t need to say a word. I already know.

In the middle of the night when my fingers find hidden places to make magic in moonlight, I wonder if I remember the face of whom first stroked this flame.

I don’t have a face yet.

Just a beautiful body with a mysterious smile that will one day (possibly?) Be real.

Until then I see hints of something that could be and make movies of our ending before the beginning credits have begun.

That’s the thing about me and love and lust. You give me one whiff of something beautiful and I’ll be the violin you pluck until we both crescendo into the next morning.

And what a morning that will be.