In wakefulness I’m with the living,

their energy vivifying,

giving strength, and toughness.

In sleep I’m among the dead,

they swallow my dread,

giving peace, and forgetfulness.

It is the space between,

consciousness and dreams,

that tortures this host.

It’s this void in my chest,

that robs me of rest,

the haunting of nagging ghosts.

It’s the hole in my mind,

that vacuum in time,

that punishes me most.

Humbly yours,


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