Somnambulist

Once more

For the ten thousandth time

Travelling to that place

Where numb

I trade my humanity

For enough to fuel

My continued existence

Each day I am

A somnambulist

Watching the road ahead

But how does an eye work

Fragile sac of jelly

Rods and cones, they say

Grasping at spectral input

Invisible analysts

Arranging data to make sense

To a brain that is made

Of meat

Do those analysts show me reality

Or only disguise

A cthulhoid impossibility

Protecting my meat from madness

This diurnal world

Fed by rods and cones

Is it truth

Or do I only live nocturnally

When the ghost that is me

Leaps free of its flesh costume

And wanders

Till the moment I rise

To somnambulate through

What I'm not sure

Is real life

Do the analysts know your face?

Are they the ones that imprinted you

So sweetly upon my vision

And my core

While fragments of remembrances

Incomplete dream threads

Whisper up the back of my neck

Shivering

For an instant returning to

The dream journey

The real life I forget each waking

Bursting into momentary mist

When I try to grasp