Pools of black flood from a broken faucet and stain like ink on a loved shirt.
A thick fog forms across the path long traveled. Looking ahead I cannot see for these hazy nightmares leave me traumatized in cold sweat.
The hidden face of Paranoia grins wickedly nestling in my shadows while illusions from my dark dreams haunt my thoughts.
Twisted imagery of naked bodies courses the chills up my spine.
Head under water, silence.
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up.
