by Alanna


There is an awkward transition

From dreamtime

To wakefulness

Where the nightly journey in my subconciusis

Is interrupted when my eyes open with the morning light

I was on the loose in the netherworld of experiences and imagery

Free from my rational mind

My decisions made for me

By loose spirits that escaped my memory

And hungry ghosts that haunt my psyche

Now as I face the responsibilities of the day

The departure from my warm bed immenint

I sit up and try to make sense of everthing

In the bright world before me

And list all the things

I need to do



Photos courtesy Pixabay

for the backstory on this poem go to byalannapasss.com

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One Comment to “Waking”

  1. True that!

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