I don't know what's worse. The nights I can't sleep because of chronic pain, or the nights that I can sleep, BUT experience the dreams. The vivid dreams. The ones where I am not myself. Nightmares tinged with truth that end either when I can tear myself roughly from its iron-clad grasp or else succumb to the inevitable darkness waiting just beyond my ken. For the dreams all tend to lead to one single destination: a grave.
Only to wake, drenched and quivering.
Both are more than I can bear.
My limbs ache. My spine creaks. Every nerve is alight. Pain receptors flared. Keeping every synapse alert like the cruellest of sentinels.
Leaving us a barely functional mess by morning.
It's 03:59.
So you know what kind of night it has been.
Hopefully, yours is a better one.
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