dreams are juxtaposed in rapid interchanging scenes.
beauty i can’t see an intrigue, and patently absurd
the wild as i scream my lungs out till i’m fully awake
backstory: Some people dance their nightmares, I write mine. That’s the only gift, albeit in an ugly wrapping, I get from this experience. What do you do with your nightmares?
p.s. I’m also linking to Poets and Storytellers United.