In my sleep,

in my dreams.

I see these images,

play out like movie scenes.

They don’t stop,

constant and scary.

The blood, the tears,

painful memories.

Stronger medication,

maybe what I need.

To end this constant flow,

from the inside, where I bleed.

My fingers work their magic,

throughout the day.

To help me store,

the hurt away.

But one can only write,

so much.

Until all is lost,

reality is too much.

For my words, are a cover up,

for my feelings inside.

Each time I write them down,

I’m bring them,

back to life.

But to tuck them away,

hurts even more.

Still searching for the answer,

to permanently lock this door.