False Memory

How do you stop reliving a dream?

A factitious nightmare caused by your own psche,

It drags you down like a riptide out at the sea.

The terror of drowning in feelings,

Unsure if they're your own,

Or a phobia drilled in since you were born.

The sick stench of retch in the hot summer sun

Tears stained lashes, eyes confused...

And you are utterly alone

The concern, the pity, fear of the truth...

It was all in that little head of yours,

How lucky for you.

Yet the fear still slumbers, a leviathan in wait

For a slip up at another time, another date.

It makes one ask, "If I'm not a victim, then who?"