haunted hours
when my ghosts emerge
from the ether
waltz in slow rotation
through my memories
music only they
can hear played by a
skeletal orchestra
backside of the night
when my demons
come out to play
leapfrog through
my dreams
like rowdy children
with fangs
with talons
Red Rover
Red Rover
shall we play
hide and seek?
© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved
Kind of like this,
“When you’re lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is taboo’d by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in, without impropriety;
For your brain is on fire – the bedclothes conspire of usual slumber to plunder you:
First your counterpane goes, and uncovers your toes, and your sheet slips demurely from under you;
Then the blanketing tickles – you feel like mixed pickles – so terribly sharp is the pricking,
And you’re hot, and you’re cross, and you tumble and toss till there’s nothing ‘twixt you and the ticking.
Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick ’em all up in a tangle;
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its usual angle!
Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eye-balls and head ever aching.
But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams that you’d very much better be waking;”*
but less funny.
*from “Love, unrequited… When you’re lying awake” – Iolanthe by W.S. Gilbert
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Christine Ray – Sleepless
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We are, often , haunted by the demons of our pasts, and sometimes, it’s, just too scary for us to deal with them, that we try our hardest, to escape them, but eventually, they will catch up, and we are , forced , to face up to them, whether were ready to, or not…
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True, but fortunately in this case I was playing with the writing prompt ‘backside of the night.’ My interpretation took a slightly darker tone than some of the others.
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