All and Nothing

Lately in my nights
I have been
Revisiting the scenes
Of old nightmares,
The blurred and
Shadowy places
All of cobwebs
And confusion
And sudden changes,
Half-familiar recreations,
Mirror images
Of comforts
And locations,
The faces of the
Living and the dead
Both real and
All and nothing,
Tricks and trap-doors,
Shifting ground and
Eyes between the floorboards,
Ghastly things hiding
In nettles and thorns,
The buzzing of wasps
And echoes of words.

Some nights I can fly,
Escape, ride the elation,
But in spite of all trying
I cannot force a scream,
Breathing speeds up but
Will not give way to crying,
Heating under tangled covers,
A body in panic
Sweating with fear
As if some great
And terrible secret
Seeks and demands confession.

But there is none.
No meaning emerges.
Fear lingers in
Half-forgotten images.


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