Phantom of Nightmares

A dream journal
Is perhaps the most personal item a being can own.
It betrays our subconscious,
That misty area between good and evil,
Where all of our desires are fed.
And so,
It is with shaking hands,
That I turn the pages.
My pages.
My twisted, lurid, night visions.
I fear not my own mind,
For I own it, if not control it.
No.
What bothers me is that your name crops up on every page.
EVERY PAGE.
I’ve been dreaming of you every night,
And not even knowing it till now.
Perhaps I’ve gone to @#!*% ,
And have to live your torment over and over
Within the bars of my brain.
I’m still hung over as I wake up every morning,
Not recalling the night before.
These are the after photos of some kegged party,
Bearing my shame for me.
For I am not over you,
As my mind would not lie.
And I cannot forget you,
As you haunt me every night.
Phantom of nightmares,
Give me my peace.
Let my mind rest,
Untroubled in sleep.