he woke to the scent

he woke to the scent.
+++++++++++++

he woke to the scent
of freshly slaughtered
dreams;

head spinning in awkward
angles against the
backdrop of his frame.

is there a
cure for all these screams!?

(or external cause to
blame?)

+

the mirror is not
an
honest source of
reflection;

it is a sycophant
relaying what you
hope to see.

while
pushing you in
the
wrong direction!!


(corrupting most
of memory.)

+

was it always a
cluster-fuck
like this?
(he wonders.)

chaos courting a
facade of  tranquility?;

fables promising
endless bliss!!

(in exchange for
liberty.)

+

he goes to sleep
with the promise of
nightmares;

head stuffed with
haunted
shadow-stones,

which once heard
the
Harmony of The
Spheres!!!

(but became a closet
full of bones.)

j.s.h.