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Born of Bad Dreams

Descending deeper with each passing day into some bittersweet abyss. Unraveling fast and beginning to fray, I wonder if I'll even be missed. Married now to the newest of pains, conserving such mystery. I fear I can no longer refrain the demon that lives in me. Do I remember what it means to love myself inside? I am a creature born of bad dreams, running out of places to hide. How much longer can I evade the truth that's given chase? Void of soul, I'm a renegade, haunting this horrid place. Perhaps there is but one way out that I'm hard pressed to learn, face your fears to remove all doubt. Stop running now and turn. Yes it's going to make me bleed, and tears are yet to be cried. Maybe this time I'll succeed in releasing the monster inside.

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Chris Green

Date: 11/29/2018 12:15:00 PM

You may not think you will be missed, because you are blinded by what you are dealing with, but you will be missed and maybe never even know it.

Christina Peters
Date: 6/30/2019 9:43:00 AM

You are a very talented man and I have become very fond of your writing. I aspire to be the scholar you are. Keep writing, it’s a dying light in this cutting edge world. You’re great.

Christina Peters
Date: 6/30/2019 9:39:00 AM

Apologies, I am terrible at the social aspect of all this. Me being “missed” was representing not the death of me, but my acceptance of a transformation within myself. As well as accepting the fact that you can not always control the world and you have to sometimes do things you oppose to maintain. Thank you for your heartfelt thoughts and concerns, my writing is oftentimes dark and mangled, but it’s because my heart and my soul and all that is me is incapable of defeat, and I am an eternal empath, always harvesting the good inside of people, even when there is none.