I dream in monochromatic blips of light and scattered images.
Bits of someone's life fragmented — maybe mine and maybe not.
I see indefinable objects of varying shape and size.
It is not wise for me to judge what they are, what they are not.

I cannot trust my eyes. I cannot trust my mind.
I cannot trust the light that's blinding me sideways.

I dream of isolated chambers and an absence of exit doors.
There is no movement in the air, no sign of life but the fear in me.
I dream of never-ending corridors with panels dark and cold.
But to be bold in here would not go far — I'd still be alone.

I cannot make it through this, but I cannot awake from this.
I cannot trust my breath, whether it's real or imagined.

I cannot puncture this, this wall of solitude.
I cannot picture this resolving itself soon.

Sleeper up, sleeper down.
Sleeper up, sleeper down.
Sleeper up, sleeper down.
Sleeper up, sleeper down.

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