He
wakes up at night,
Not
sweating,
But
scared.
His
fingers shake
As he
pours himself a drink,
Hard
liquor to drown dreams.
He sits
by the window
To gaze
into an empty reality,
To
purge her face from his mind.
This is
the third night:
He
wants to sleep,
But to
sleep is to dream.
Sometimes
nightmares are happy,
Filled
with radiant people,
And
light and warmth.
Sometimes
happiness terrifies,
Makes
courage tremble,
And
nights unbearable.
He
weeps at the image,
And
fears what may follow
When
next he shuts his eyes.
She is
radiant beauty,
Playful,
strong, loved,
Impossible
to forget.
He
fears her dream-image
Because
she is real,
Because
dreams are uncontrollable.
He
tries to forget her,
As he
thinks he should;
He
cannot love her.
This is
why he trembles
When
there is warmth and light;
What
seems good, a great evil.
Another
drink before his eyes grow heavy,
And his
heartbeat slowed.
One
more shot before he falls victim again.
-Zero
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