"I dreamt
that I was atrocity.
I was allure.
The gaping maw."
I wrote that almost ten months ago. I had almost completely forgot about it. Something tonight reminded me. There are the kinds of nights where you rationalize your insomnia. It was self-defense. Like the last two survivors of a stranded expedition, having resorted to cannibalizing the rest of the group, facing each other from across the makeshift fire, knowing that the first to fall asleep won't make it down the mountain. It's him or me. Dog eat dog.
In those days, the nightmares were vivid. The kinds of dreams that don't wake you up in a screaming startle at the point of your death. You stay dreaming, helplessly watching a horror that cannot be stopped. All memories are erased and the only thing you can understand is the feeling of utter dread.
It is at once horrid and beautiful.
The morning comes and you allow the illusion of safety to lull you into agreement. You both have an understanding.
Some nights, you just have that feeling.
