against the grain.

Because in one heartbeat my soul can be torn.
With one glimpse of shade.
With one promise of a thunderstorm.

I have found myself weary, wounded and weak.
I have found myself unknowing and shy.
I have found myself sorted and unalike.

I've awoke from willow covered sorrow
and sagebrush burns.
I've lost every feeling in my lips.

Arise from the dark of dreams.
From the capture of unconscious thought.
From the time of instinct.

Hold fast.
and I'm already home.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wouldn't exactly call, what I've been having lately, "nightmares," but they certainly are not what I've come to think of as "dreams."  They're just enough unpleasant to need filing in some other, unknown folder.

They make me feel as if I haven't slept at all. Keeping my mind busy and my body from rest.
Some things simply mean nothing.
Brain vomit.

Maybe it's bad grapes.