before the sun.
For the third time in a week,
I've woken in these dark hours,
battling to cling to
wisps of a dream.
I've been medicating my way to sleep for years now,
dreams were an early casualty.
sleep is a brief jaunt into the void followed by a piss and a cup of black coffee.
Dreams are a rarity,
so even these lingering phantasms are worth a mention.
it was a long dark [redacted].
Am I being chased?
Barely worth remembering,
until three days after I followed the [redacted] and it led to a glimpse of a long jagged [redacted].
I walked that dark [redacted] again, and saw
the Man in the Long Coat
standing at the end.
Was he watching silently as I approached?
Each morning after one of these single frame dreams,
I woke with a distinct sort of static tone ringing in my ears.
I can't place it.
I can still hold the image of the Man in the Long Coat in my head.
A back-lit shadow,
his coat nearly to the ground behind him.
That static tone growing louder as I walk to him,
His face never falling into the light.
I don't know why this is worth mentioning.
Something is in motion.
This was not the beginning.