I’m neither here nor there,
Half asleep or half awake.
Not quite conscious,
Like a drifting snowflake.
Sinking through a prism,
Where I fantasize and over-achieve.
Seeing a blonde haired vixen,
Thinking I’ve seen her tats before.
I’m retreating, hiding,
From her beckoning embraces.
My drunken mates at the bar,
Giggling and smirking, as if I can’t see.
Between there’s a tattered curtain,
A pale veil, shadows lurking.
A vision frighteningly surreal,
Like a fiery chasm.
The blonde’s tattoos spasm,
Chasing my body into the surf.
A bubbling sensation, wildly scary,
I sprawl atop the tattoos in the sand.
And I wonder what to do,
With her bloodied tattooed hand,
Wishing I could escape from here or there.
I suddenly awaken, and burst into tears,
Recognizing my weakly fears.