A haunting tale

I tossed and turned and the visions become more vivid.
At times they became harder and harder to decipher what was real and what was make-believe.
My heart beat raced as my eyes flung open with current dismal.
I was falling deeper and deeper into a fixation that only my mind could trace.
What of this dream that’s somehow inside of another fantasy, one of which my eyes have cast to play tricks on me?
My mind rambled to rehash itself only to come up empty.
Defense mode has set in and every little sound released melancholy tears.
I whispered to myself, but the more the words flowed the crazier I began to sound.
This dream I’ve seen play before me isn’t a dream at all.
It’s a memory.
A memory constantly on repeat so I’ll never forget what happened to me.

Poker face

I sat in the window, overlooking the world.
Children’s laughter suddenly fills my ears.
The familiar sound of passersby trying to familiarize themselves with one another.
A knowing glance, possibly even a certain stance
It was enough to say hello.
It was enough to say goodbye.
My hands sprang forward as my face arched past the window.
Contend with this world and yet I’ve suddenly felt more fragile.
My thoughts of content linger in the air as a feeling deep inside me heated  my skin.
Is that jealousy?
Is that pain?
Why are my feelings of distraught suddenly on display?
Sweet emotions forevermore displayed on my face.
A hand at poker would be a loss.
A lie once told would never be forgotten.
I wear these emotions even if I say nothing.