It’s two weeks in a row.
A fortnight of nightly horrors.
Every time I fall asleep I have bad dreams.
The gut-wrenching type of visions I can’t erase from my brain after I wake up at 3am.
Early today I just had the urge to shove up the sleeves of my sweatshirt and look for nail marks, there was nothing.
Still the tremor in my bones remained for a while after.
I don’t like dreaming, because most times I see the River.
I take no medication.
I don’t freak myself out with gory stories or movies before bed.
I don’t like talking about it.
But I see it.
I have the saving grace of knowing how to wake myself up and don’t scream the house down.
I like earthly silence but the one you experience at the very shores of that place is not silence.
It’s fear.

It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes mercifully Beyond our powers of healing. When your heart is broken, your boats are burned: nothing matters anymore. It is the end of happiness and the beginning of peace.

~ George Bernard Shaw

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