Irrational Reality

The shrill sounds in the night surely came from My dream, or my sick psyche, I’m unsure. Whichever, I awoke pantomiming Sabbatical dreams after quarantine. I desperately needed to escape the unrelenting stress of concealing The label I hide on the wine bottle. I could leave the asylum anytime. At breakfast they wore sorrowful faces when They told me of the psycho cat’s demise. I wept walking along listening to Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach.