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To sleep, to dream. Again.

Poems are a lot like dreams.
No. 
Poems are a lot like nightmares. 

Until you've been broken by one, 
You'll never understand how deeply 
It can sting, burn, and glow. 

And you'll never understand the scars left behind
By nightmares and poems. 
Beautifully unique scars. 
Uniquely hideous scars. 

Nightmares are like poems. 
For a time, you live inside them,
Surrounded by their reality,
For better or for worse,
Fighting against the sting,
Or giving into the burn,
Or basking in the glow
Of their truths. And their lies. 
Until you wake up one day and realize 
No one else sees them, or cares. 

Nightmares are a lot like poems. 
When it's too dark to find your way out. 

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