Sleep Without Dreams

I had tried to write

words upon screaming words

this loss gaping pain,

but I seemed to

never quite capture

the sensations

under the skin.

I ached,

no,

what I meant was

I physically hurt

like someone injecting

poisons into my skull

that spread through my veins

and made me shudder to remember

having this

beautiful brother soul,

my twin spirit,

half of me ripped out

and taken off

somewhere into a

nightmare wonderland

in which I could linger

but could not stay,

and I found that the wounds

seem to fester,

worsen,

as the time passed

since our hearts together

speaking our own language

through the tides of fashion and fancy,

gossip and mundane chatter.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you ever still,

can hear your rattle death breathing

in my head

while the storms

wash down

upon me.

Im dying over and over

in my sleep without dreams.