Lucid Horrors

the ghosts scream in my ear

while I sleep and it sounds

like wind rushing in for the kill,

fading to the howl of a creature

that unloads hate at my skull.

my mind opens to fear but

my body closes to impulse

in this closed-eye consciousness.

I wrestle within my darkness

against the talons on the other side.

there's pressure on my back

but I can't move and toss the carcass

off of me so I can wake.

I can feel the thrashing

and I may never know

where the wounds are,

my gauze may never drink,

ointment may never find a crack to fill.

morning brings uncertainty,

when I wake I will rise into a fog,

not knowing which side I belong to.