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The (K)nightmare

by Chandni
(New Delhi, India)

lay putrefying on my pillow.

I woke up
in a breathless hurry,
this heart weaving beats
in a crazed drunken stitch.
My eyes screamed
at replays of
The Dream
stretched taught
against a canvas of terror.
Caught between fiction
and fear,
I wretchedly thirsted
for reality
to get more real.
A binding silence
stitched my limbs to
my heavy sides
fetid fingers scratched
at my will.
The sheets were drenched in salt,
a fever of sweat and tears.

I lifted a hand - rag puppet limp
and in a voice splintered by fear,
called out, "Name".
You walked in,
my Dandelion wish
I blew you into reality
and watched you
slowly sift through
those threads of cacophony
cocooning me
into comfort.

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Jul 04, 2012
Your poem
by: Sneha

Welcome to IWW...Your offering is stark, dark and deep. It has some lovely shades of metaphors and imagery. Write on!

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