Gothic

I see the shadows from your dreaming coming unstuck, ripped from their seams at the heels, like Peter Pan`s but iridescent in cobalt, a neutron star, the blues, the forgiveness that comes with that which is not accomplished.

A thousand archetypes came in for drinks last night. They arrived at midnight and were greeted with pills. There were warnings on their smiles, portents foreshadowing something... else. A missive from a thousand nightmares, received unstamped, unstuck, sidereal.

I went to bed with spiders crawling on the inside of my eyelids, sticky gossamer webbing pinch-hitting for slumber. We pierced through night`s hymen and broke into daylight with irrelevant effort, and without too much expectation.