...nightmares in color...

Chemically balanced hallucinations

     brought to life by memories no longer buried,
     past visions of what were sins

     embedded in the psyche; married

As it were.  Bound in form and shape

     as ethereal portraits, tattered canvases

     strung end to end.  Macabre film tape

     overexposed to garish glass

Statuettes of disillusionment.  Memory spark

     gives light to dim horrors
     so soon forgotten but with a careless remark
     comes back with such savage roar.

Too curious about the dead and what cannot be,

     sitting alone at a impasse, precipice,

     the mirror of time shows a reflection not of me.

     A strange face stares back, identity amiss

To the relation of the soul.  Monsters and resurrection

     dominate all thought process and function.
     God.  Damn.  It.  If only I could shun
     what seems to demand and dominate attention;

More than its fair share of my time.

     If I could push them back down

     these unsightly demons of mine

     would they weigh so heavy, an unpleasant crown

Made of thorns, of brambles and things made to prick

     causing blood to draw from unsightly wounds

     heavy on my heart like a cinder brick

     sewn  mortar with flesh, a self contained tomb.

Heavy is the heart behind the eyelids of the damned

     wishes for sanity and longing for sleep

     inside this crazed mind they now become crammed

     nothing left to do now, but lie in the dark and weep.

© 2013 p.hill