As I pry the nights tendrils from my vision and watch the sun struggle to rise,
As I listen to the birds singing and hear the world move in space and time.
There’s a shift in my perception, my slumbering consciousness waking from dreams.
I survey the metaphysical landscape and reality ain’t what it seems.
I blink away the odyssey, and punish this brain for reason and thought.
Trying to rationalise this experience from what I’ve learned before.
Reaching, fumbling, struggling for grasp. A child in a grown up place.
Evading an explanation, it resists existence and refuses to form a face.
The scars of my flesh begin to itch, my emotional scars do too.
What is this alarming stinging, this torture of mind and skin.
Emotions, throw themselves at me in banshee wails while flailing.
Shouting, screaming, beating, accusing, mournfully wailing.
Suddenly I prise open my lids for vision and struggle to rise.
I hear the birds singing. The alarm screams out the time.
I shift my position as I awake from a dream.
Realising, not everything is what it seems.
A poem by Miriam Said.