A Surreal Waking

My world is my head
My head is in my bed

Is filled with bitter dreams
unfriendly shapes
guilt, fascination

accusing dark, and
colours of remorse.

My head is aching
It seems to slither about
On a shiny pavement
wet slippery pavement
and the rain is beating down into my face
pockmarking each instant
my mouth is filled with rain
The crowd hurries by and heeds not
and the red lights glow
in the distance and dark.

Kaylene Andrews