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

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