Lately every night, in my dreams, I die.
Well technically I wake up just before…
Boo standing over me saying Happy Mothers Day.
MPS waking me to take my meds.
The morning alarm.
All these things wake me just before I take my last breath, or in the case of Mothers Day morning I was given the chance to decide how to spend my ‘final day’ before I opened my eyes.
Sometimes it is an accident, sometimes it is not.
Every time it at the hands of someone else.
Read into that as you will.
I am so tired, so sore, so broken, and my bed is my last place of pure bliss but my subconscious is now taking that from me with nightly elaborate imaginings of my demise.
Most times I wake warily, heart racing and lay in the dark for hours wishing this shit would stop.
Glad it is just a dream. That I am OK. That the horrors in my subconscious are just that.
Inside my mind and not real.
Relieved that I am not dead.
Sometimes however, disturbingly, I wake staring into the dark and for a fleeting moment feel…
And that is probably more frightening than the dreams themselves.