Image via Wikipedia

Image via Wikipedia

Resentment I feel

to the very bone.

In this state,

I should be left alone.

All this anguish within my gut,

does indeed sharply cut.

I have become one with it,

bit by bit.

It is written upon my face

and takes up most of my space.

What an utter waste.

I am quickened by

the drum inside my head,

that feels as thick as lead.

The heaviness is felt

in my limbs

like a weighted belt.

My face becomes beet red.

I toss and turn within my bed.

My dreams are not

what I would wish,

certainly not my kind of dish.

Abstract images move

zigging and zagging throughout

 my mind’s eye

and an image I am not too familiar

occasionally shoots by.

I suppose to say hi.

I wish to awaken from this trip

so that I may equip

myself in the light,

so I can see and fully breathe.

What the dreams mean?

I am not for certain.

I would prefer to pull the curtain

to these dramatizations,

whether they be

 from my subconscious

or from some past memory burden.

Certain feelings can bring about

weird dream-like phenomena

that in no way can be found in doubt.