Exploding Head Syndrome

I’d like to be at peace,

at least,

when I fall asleep.

Finally nodding off,

counting sheep,

I’m between my sheets

on a cloud

breathing at ease.

Thoughts begin to warp,

and cease

using normal logic,

and I’m far away from my body.

And then there was nothing

but empty space.

Something far-off

in the vast reaches

of a resting mind catches,

spontaneously combusting

the sawdust from

every stray thought I’ve ever had.

I’m pinching myself,

when I might be ablaze,

and feel nothing,

jolting me awake.

A surreal moment passes,

as I sit in the dark,

unharmed.

“Well, that was something.”

Sleep Paralysis

Hazey under indigo light.

The most I can say

is that I’m in my own space

under my duvet.

Short on details,

I get a line of sight

from the corner.

Someone’s just standing by the closet.

I want to say anything

but I rouse no sound.

The figure shuffles,

mumbles and begins to take one

belabored step

towards me.

I want to get out,

but my muscles barely twitch.

As it’s foot hits the ground,

it bounds over my head

like a tiger.

I want to close my eyes,

but I’m transfixed.

I come to

and it’s 5:18 AM.

Sleeping sure does

take a lot out of you.

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The Rumor Mill

If someone told you something in a dream,

did you hear it from them?

It wasn’t the beating of my eardrums,

but the wind-chimes in my mind,

that really shook me.

As clearly as I heard that phrase,

Just like when I’m awake,

I can’t quite place

a name to a face.

Some times my mind,

plays tricks on me,

some times,

it speaks outright lies.

To pursue,

embedded memories,

is not worth the energy.

Perusing,

confusing illusions,

only leads you back,

to the directory.

I Just Woke up

3:18 A.M.,

And the conditioned air,

Is frigid,

To the inside,

Of my nose.

But it’s sweltering,

Underneath,

This duvet,

And I can’t find,

The right position,

To be in.

I lie on my back,

Then turn my head,

And face the wall.

Every time,

I close my eyes,

I can hear the wind blow,

Every few seconds or so.

I stand up,

Throwing off my covers,

To put on,

A sweatshirt.

I sit on the green lawn chair,

On the porch,

Feeling,

The calming breezes,

Come by.

I blink,

Between breaths,

And awaken at,

5:41 in the morning.

Et Cetera, et cetera

Please,

Spare me the details,

Your verbosity,

Will only derail,

The course of the story.

Your memory will fail,

Halfway through the tale,

And it will all be gone with the wind.

In it’s place: an awkward laugh,

A mystified grumble,

Or even a comment about how old you’re getting.

You’ll wonder why your memory lapsed,

Though this is mere curiosity,

As you free-fall down the rabbit hole,

Stroking your chin,

At terminal velocity.

Eyes to the heavens,

You’ll see,

The entrance to the chasm,

Shrink,

Until,

It becomes a twinkling,

North Star,

Imposter.