The Sandman has lost his mind
I can feel him there before my mind falls into sleep
I can feel him slit his wrists,
His blood gushes and it wets the sand he blankets me in
It itches my skin,
I scratch and the sand gets into me,
Seeping into my blood
It reaches my head and it floods my brain
And it makes my thoughts break apart, break free,
They course through me, they gallop into my soul
They feed on the infected sand and become deranged
The thoughts mutate, they’re no longer mine,
I can’t stop them, there are so many of them
They make my heart beat faster
They weigh down my chest.
I gasp, I shudder, I twitch, I gasp again.
They start speaking to me, asking me, prodding me
Screaming at me, again and again:
“What If everything goes wrong?”
“What if you truly are a failure?”
“What if the world ends right now?”
“What can you be proud of?
“What if they all die?”
“What if they find out?”
“You’re weak.” “You’re pathetic.”
“Look at you,” they say.
But I don’t want to look at me.
I want to shield my eyes.
I need tears to distort my vision,
To relieve this mounting pressure of hopelessness and pain.
But tears don’t come.
The Sandman had sprinkled his sand onto my lashes
They seeped into my tear-ducts, drying me out,
Prying my eyes open and I’m now forced to see.
To see me. Cowering, humiliated.
I close my eyes. I pray, I count, I breathe in deep.
And slowly, every so slowly, this world fades.
But right before the darkness embraces me,
My body jerks awake, afraid of what I’ll see.
Or worse, what I won’t find in my sleep.
Because a need grips my dreams.
A search for meaning, for salvation.
An opaque lens of realties.
I twist and turn in sleep,
My soul somewhere, gripped by a quest.
Nothing makes sense.
Children die in my arms,
I can’t protest the deaf,
The dead whisper,
I’m the grand winner,
The angry man whips me with his poisoned spikes…
And then I awake with a wail
There is no refuge, awake or asleep.
Where is my protector, where is my guardian?
My eyes travel upwards and I see it twinkle in the dawn’s light
Why, oh Dreamcatcher, have you forsaken me?
I slowly rise, I peer into its web.
I touch it, and I see now that the Sandman’s blood had splattered there.
What can save me now?
I give in. Yet again, I have failed. The Sandman has won.
As the sunlight starts to flood my room,
I lay in my bed shivering and I close my eyes
I hear a clock tick in my head and all I can do is wait.
Laying still until he comes again.