Midnight Visitor

Late night visitor to my quarters,
dragging with it old questions,
clawing drag-marks in their wake.
Gravity from familiarity.

Peeking over the tip of my door.
Pretences none, we've done this before.
pieces of panic, shattered, dig deep in sleep,
piercing where calm and sanity should be.

Wall hangings appear and rugs of dark
in this time of fresh nightly new decor.
Allowing lost pathways to reimagine thoughts,
they avoid crash bends of tall tales.

Occasional, micro, black flash of vision.
Grimacing in shadows it works,
all the while jerks and tussles with muzzles,
tugging consiousness from wrenched dreams,

while this visitor sits on the edge of the bed,
mild clothes draped drab over bones,
facing wall, speaking whispers to the room,
I listen and shake tight with apprehension.

But synthetic defence staves off the worst,
whispers fake reason,
Seeps from decayed, rusted foundations,
To cloud the mind, foggy.