The dreams seep back again,

The ones you know all too well, where

I am screaming,  so hard, that waking is as easy

as having no choice. Throat too,

Wasted away, soaked by my own sadness, stopping it

 breathing, and I

lose myself              along with my voice.

The drink was in my mouth before I had

The chance to turn it down, ground myself, twist my head

The right way round.

I cannot sleep on a pillow whose sound

Is only one which whispers regret into my ears,

Feeding on fears which I never said aloud.

Do you remember those nights of torment,

Which felt they’d never end?

When three suns rose,  and three moons chose,

To taunt us that we were alone, watching it wither

From different time zones which,

Will never reconcile

Their differences.