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Dreams Aren't All They're Cracked Up to Be


Waking dreams
follow my sleeping hours
in the footsteps
of my own dreariness.

They stalk with their teeth
of soft satin,
and their beady eyes alight
with a warming fire.

They’re bringing me in,
closer,
closer,
closer.

Lulling me away from this world
of nightmares,
and into the embrace
of the crooked arms
of a death
well deserved.