Tag: dreams

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in the darkness of my nightmares

The feeling of insecurity permeated my nights, and the tranquillity I longed for was elusive. The unyielding nightmares seemed to claw at the delicate fabric of my subconscious, leaving me restless and unsettled. The haunting terrors crept through every fibre of my being, casting a shadow over my dream world. Each time I closed my eyes, I was engulfed in a relentless cycle of fear and unease, unable to find solace in the realm of dreams.

In those harrowing moments, it felt like an eternity as every fibre of my being quivered with fear, yearning for solace that seemed agonizingly out of reach. The silence of the night was only shattered by the symphony of my own fears, echoing relentlessly in the recesses of my mind. Each beat of my heart seemed to resound like a thunderous drum, threatening to rupture through the confines of my chest. My gasps for air felt like desperate pleas for mercy, forming an unspoken prayer amidst the chaos. It was a fervent cry for respite, an unyielding desire to unravel the tangled web of emotions that held me captive.

As the panic consumed me, it was as if time stood still, and I was left grappling with the intangible spectre of unease. The longing for understanding and comfort surged within me, akin to a beacon amid the enveloping darkness, only to dissipate like wisps of smoke upon my tentative grasp. Each fleeting moment seemed to mock the transient nature of whatever sense of relief graced my consciousness, vanishing as swiftly as it materialized.

As the first light of morning gently spread across the sky, a symphony of colours danced on the horizon, as if celebrating the birth of a new day. Despite the serene scene unfolding before me, a lingering unease continued to grip me. My skin still bore the residue of cold sweat, and an inexplicable sense of apprehension clouded my thoughts. It was as though a shadow loomed behind my eyes, casting a pall over my every waking moment. I grappled with the disconcerting sensation of something waiting to inflict harm once more. The act of rationalizing and trying to contain my tumultuous thoughts felt foreign, unsettling. However, mercifully, the torment of nocturnal terrors had dissipated, leaving behind a fragile sense of relief.

Fragile. Strong. All at once. Vulnerable and not. Because for every moment a dream turned into a nightmare, there was also a moment when my forced and sometimes faked confidence helped me through the day.

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In the dance of light and shadow, life twirls in delicate balance,
A fragile petal in the wind, yet rooted deep like a mountain’s stance.
Through the tempest’s howl, a whisper of strength does weave,
For in every shattered dream, a new hope does believe.
So wear your courage like armour, forged in the fires of day,
For even the most vulnerable heart holds an unbreakable sway.

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fiction – 484 words – reading time: 3 minutes

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moonlit streams (new poem)

As dusk descends and the world grows still,
I dance with whispers, night’s crown my thrill.
The shades beckons, my soul’s intent keen,
To paint my dreams with hues unseen.

In twilight’s domain, where fantasies dwell,
I find my comfort, my haven, my well.
With imagination’s brush, free and untamed,
A work of art from a heart unclaimed.

Under starry arches, I seek and retrieve,
In tranquility, my essence begins to weave.
Old wounds, now stories of valor and fight,
Mended by starlight’s soft, healing light.

Dreams take flight on moonlit streams,
A free bird in the realm of dreams.
With every breath, in night’s tender clasp,
I glide through dreams with a boundless grasp.

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poetry – 115 words – reading time: 1 minute

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Et le temps court…

My bed is empty. My mind is full. I am tired, fighting a headache. Lying in the dark, I am listening to the rain. The window is open, and I feel the breeze on my skin. I know I should be asleep, it would ease the headache and maybe prevent the bad mood I am sure I will suffer in the morning. But I can’t fall asleep. I had troubles letting go the last few nights — dreams; not a nightmare, just unsettling dreams.

I have so many things to say and to share, and yet, they don’t matter, and so I keep them to myself.

There are times when I share most everything on my mind. I let my fingers write, and my mind think, and I just float on that wave that jumps from one thought to the next. I can’t seem to do that right now. (Although I am doing it) It just feels like stealing your time and attention. I know that you give it freely or else you wouldn’t be here, but my mind is trying to tell me that no one cares and that I don’t matter?

Why am I sabotaging myself this much? After all, I am an okay person. Ordinary, but okay.

I ordered new music today (her name is Calla – animal choir). And I watched two movies (untamed heart and pump up the volume) with my favourite actor (Christian Slater). I also listened to music by Coastlands (postrock from Oregon/USA), burnt down an incense stick (sandalwood) and ate pizza (prosciutto). I read a couple of pages in my book (the I undiscovered gyrl by Allison Burnett)…

Who cares?! I want you to care, to be honest, because I want you to care about me. But again, who cares about this narcissistic vanity.

Do you dream about specific colours? I am used to having dreams that repeat themselves. They used to be in a green hue. Like a green veil or fog in front of my eyes… Nowadays that fog or veil is blue, but the images I see – the pictures in my dream are still the same.

Maybe the breeze and the rain will let me fall asleep eventually anyway… Who knows?

The title of this post is French and could be translated to “the time keeps running”

*hugs*

Cathy

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*Repost* Come

I run, and I run. My legs are burning. They are heavy as lead. But I keep running. I run towards the dark alley that is calling my name. An alley I would avoid at all cost every other night. Not now. Not tonight. You are calling me. And I have to find you. I need you.

“Come, Cathy!” I hear it loud and clear. And I keep running and running. Because I want to catch you. You are my safe haven. I need to find you. Your presence will give me peace. And I keep running towards the dark. And the unknown. Edged on by the hope to find you, my love.

“Come, Cathy!” And I want to come to you. But I can’t reach you. No matter how fast I run, you are never there.

“Come, Cathy!” It is beginning to be frustrating. Devastating. Desperation sets in. How can I reach you? And I run and I run. Until I can’t run anymore and I stop. Everything is dark. There is no sound. Claustrophobic. Empty walls are closing in on me.

“Are you there?” I whisper. It sounds like the loudest scream in this absolute silence. I can hear my blood pounding in my ears. And I realise that I am afraid. Fucking scared, actually. Of this silence. Of this void. Of this emptiness. Of you not being there.

“Are you there?” I whisper again. There is something cold and wet on my cheeks. Tears? And I can’t fill my lungs with enough air to breathe properly.

“Are you there?” I turn around several times. Turning in never-ending circles. I don’t know where I am — lost and confused. And I am so alone. And so cold. Cold and alone. Inside, and outside too. Lost in the dark. In the unknown. Inside my dream.

“Come, Cathy!” But I can’t do what you want me to do. I am not there. I am not real. Nothing is.

I wake up drenched in sweat. I remember the voice loud and clear. I know the voice. Your voice. My heart is pounding against my ribs, and I can still hear my blood’s flow in my ears. It makes me deaf to every other sound surrounding me. Around me, the bedroom is bathed in a red hue from the sun touching the closed blinds. “Come Cathy!” resonates behind my eyes, and between my ears. I don’t know what it means. I can’t remember a thing. Nothing that matters. And in my agitated state, it feels as if someone is watching me. I am at peace. I am safe. Because this is real, and you are not there.

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Bizarre dreams

I dreamed we were walking hand in hand. On a farmer’s market. Looking for a special toy for your daughter.

I dreamed you just married my sister and hid underneath a blanket to avoid her. I found you, and you told me you’d rather be with me than with her. I hid with you under the blanket.

You are often in my dreams, but rarely as vivid as you were in these two dreams. The second one happened this night.

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Green

Green is the colour I associate with you

When I dream of you, you are bathed in a green hue

Green is the colour I feel when I think of you.

The first time I talked to you, you asked me to relax and listen to your voice. Three years later, and I can still remember it vividly. I was cuddled in my purple blanket, wearing nothing but a nightgown. I held the phone to my ear, and my eyes were closed. A sudden indescribable heat engulfed me and it was as if you were next to me, close to me in my room. I knew it couldn’t be, but you knew what I was wearing and you guessed my most intimate fantasies. I felt your presence, and your aura, it was green. It was soothing and so vibrant. I had never experienced anything quite like it. That heat. That colour. That moment. It was perfect bliss. But it didn’t last. And I was never able to recreate it. Until tonight. I was in that state between being awake and being asleep. It has been a while since you were in my dreams (and since you were on my mind like this). Tonight you were. You were standing in front of me, and I felt that familiar heat and I saw the familiar colour green. It was like a veil covering my dream. But the image of you slipped through my fingers. You faded. I tried to hold on, but I was too weak. I woke up (or came to) with a beating heart. And a longing to hear your voice calling me your Sweetie again. Overwhelmed, I couldn’t find sleep again. Did we connect tonight without either of us knowing about it?

Green is the colour of my dreams

Uninvited, you found your way under my sheets

Green is the colour that I see when your soul speaks to me

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I keep waiting

Silver slivers of an other world
Golden echoes of a past long gone
It is as if the warming summer rain never ceased to coat our skins
It is as if the most important part of you lives inside my pulsing veins
Gray clouds repeating your whispered word
White lies, hidden in a new song
It is as if your home is in my mind
But my mind is lost and home is hard to find
Iridescent pictures of the end of an affair
I vividly remember the way you used to ask “Are you there?”
Silver slivers, fragments of our story
Golden echoes, mirror of a promise I intend to keep

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The reality of my dream

Lost in the scary reality of this dream.
You are there but you don’t recognise me.
You look at me but you don’t see me. And I call your name and wave my arms.
To no avail.
And I realise; in your world, I am only a dream.

I wake up with a start.
Drenched in sweat, the sheets are in a bunch around my ankles.
I turn to you for comfort.
But you are not here.
You never were.
And I realise; in my world, you are only a dream.

I wish our dreams could merge.
You would see me.
I would find comfort.
Reality would be less empty.
Dreams would be less deceiving.
It could be a place we call home.

Catherine Micqu xx