Pick Your Poison

Shadows in a Bottle

whispered faces morphing out of focus;
there are one too many expressions shifting over the contours,
far too many people inside until i lose my sight altogether...

i am in the festival space,
running in circles,
furry pants still shield my legs.
there are stages all around this place,
amphitheaters filled with hippie folk.
for some untold reason there's an air
of discontent swelling dangerously
in the anxious crowds.
some odd mixture of feeling at home
and total isolation creeps up my spine;
i am reminded of being lost in the desert,
scared and lonely,
nothing to do but wait for the drugs
to leave me to my shaken peace.

then it's her:
everyone i've loved tightly crammed
into one passing sojourner.
it glances at me without concern
and passes by briskly.
i run up to inflict a greeting,
but by the time i approach
it is only just a stranger
that looks startled at my ferocity.
but... i saw you.
i saw you all,
squirming through one face,
maybe fighting to get out.

and then suddenly i'm awake again,
eyes wide,
deliciously grateful that it was just a dream.
my heart is pounding
and i tell myself to breath.

emptied bladder leads me back under the covers,
and i'm praying not to return.