- Image credit: Gloom82 via Deviant Art
Dead Dreams
When I dream I dream of deserts. Dry, dead, wastelands, scuttling beetles scraping on molted gray trees.
When I dream I dream of despair.
Deserted cityscapes, angry red skies pierced by jagged metal peaks. Diseased red-eyed rodents, emboldened, angry, formidable.
When I dream I dream of death.
Deep blackened skies choking a lifeless planet.
Unfathomable voids- ripping, tearing in ever-expanding darkness.
Darkness. Emptiness.
Disease. Death. Despair.
Every night in my dreams.
When I wake, I am empty.
A shell. A vessel. An Outsider.
I put on my mask.
I smile. Squeeze. Smile again.
My reflection is meaningless.
I sip my coffee carefully. I pick up my briefcase, my newspaper, my cellphone. I walk to another day at the office.
I look at them all. And I smile.
