Sweven
Member

30th

Bridge Glitch
Keep crossing the same bridge no matter which ways are taken. "Time to make our own roads," I say while scanning ditches for escape.

Orality
They greet by giving oral sex as if merely shaking hands. Not that desperate to converse, I sit. I think. I write.

Intercedings
Bewitched by northlight ribbons, brave the snow and starlit unknown. Camera will not see. Phone will not wake. Seasons shift from drifts to mud to drifts again. People need, need, need. Can not even love the lights. Always interceding.

HI
Phantom serpents of light spill and twist together into a slow spinning galactic dance.

29th

Hurdling
We train. We would race forever with fluid ease if not for the angst and angles they keep throwing at our feet.

Riddled
A sea of solemn hearts and shining eyes. Squeeze into the stadium. Stand. Salute. Give goodly tribute to they who paved our way. Champions stand, weapons raised to pierce the sun. Instead, they riddle the gathered mourners. Metal streams. Families scream. We scatter into a mansion to somewhat safety.

Rigid Waterpark
Cruise through a sun-swept stretch of day. We are carefree with glints of caution. Wait to enter the water world. Our driver offers a false mouth to wear while we are scanned. It fools facial recognition. But inside are flesh rivers of straight lines and rigid rules.

27th

What woke me? Ears strain. Heart shudders. Cast off ancient sheets. Rise. This is a long lost home. Stained by shivering shades of black and blue, it presses. Silence is pristine. The space is so soft, ominous, like a dream. But it is not. I am home. I am alone. Where are they? From bedroom to kitchen to livingroom roam on feet that wish to falter.

A scream. A blur. I'm flung to the floor. Fists slam straight into my face, "You left me! It's your fault! You left me! It's your fault!" chants a shadow puppet brother. But his words are weightless. His fists are phantoms. I laugh around his fury..."Dreaming!"

Lucid will forces the rage swept shadow to rise. Hold it high. It floats, shadow amid shadow, twisting, glitching, flailing. Brother shakes the world with a scream.

I stand. "No fighting. There are other things to do in dreams. And besides, you left us..."

He shrieks, "Your fault. Family left me. Left me. Your fault!"

"I wasn't the one abusing his wife and ki..."

"Your fault!" he screams with demon rage. A flurry of fists rips my way.

I remain untouched on several levels. Walk away? Will him away? Warp to another dream? No. He will see any retreat as weakness, an invitation to stay an haunt. I tire of being haunted. With frightening calm, reach into my brother's shadow and grip his living spine. Rip it out. Crush it to the floor. The rest of his shadow follows, drifting strings of twitching tendons. They fade into nevermore.

Still haunting the halls of my own youth, search shadows for a sign. Nothing. Now what? A reality check strengthens my light. I should exorcise this place. The final ghost to be banished will be mine. But first, the final room. Mind is shining. Heart is stone. Spirit is steel. All demons will be undone... but in this room there stand none.

Instead, upon my mother's bed, sits a mountain of of man, his flesh a gallery of bright, tribal tattoos. He speaks softly, swiftly, in tongues my mind can not unwind. Sit and listen. Ever so slowly I think I can nearly hear his truth...

26th - Lost Dreams

27th

Lot Locked
Crowded parking lot will neither allow me to move forward or back. There is no escape. In frustration I realize that there is escape, Slip out the driver window and walk away. Deal with the abandonment when the time comes


28th

Soldier Boy
He comes for us relentlessly and colored in cultures of red. Our end will come at the hands of a soul-less patriot. We flee and attempt to love the lingering moments of life we have left.

Angels or Demons?
Only grass, sky, house, apple tree, and solitary me. Sweet solitude and silence. Then a Predator sound. Rush outside. A monocle will reveal the invader. But before it is seen, a man floats down from the sagging roof. Now stand between them, an angel of the lord and a predator turned Mandalorian. We scheme to crush a dream.

Tangled Lives
Rolling knots of unkempt hair refuse to be tamed. Within the hills and valleys of tangles thrives a world of insects and snakes. Comb carefully around them to ease the uncoiling of their cosmos.

Also a set of dreams I didn't write down. Hope to be adding the a little later when they return to me.