Eerie yellow numbers
Leering back at me.
One by one and two by two,
Together we pass
The wee hours of the morning.
And there it stains,
Warm, wet, and dripping.
Etching into my eyes,
So I can’t see.
Blinding me from the glare
Of a 60 watt soft light truth,
I watch instead the grey drippings
Of a Freudian neutron
Going deeper than he ever dreamed.
Deep. Deep. His knees at my ears.
Sigmund had it wrong.
I never imagined this.
Nightmares are the window to the truth.
Bullshit.
Mirrors are the only truth.
I look into mine and cringe:
My wrinkle, stretch marks, and rolls
Talk of life.
I live. I live. I live another day.
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