Dreams Die

The air rushes by your ears        
You hear the explosions        
The screams grind like gears      
You can't take the commotion.        
Your eyes fly open.        
The tension builds as you adjust to the dark,      
You're in a cold sweat, the only sound-
The hollow thud of a numb heart.        
Your feet hit the ground,        
Hands over your face.        
You get up for the fridge, for another taste,      
Of a bottle of that cheap liquor you've been drinking for days.        
It's the only thing that helps anymore,
Your petty reason for trudging through life,    
When your whole world is a revolving lie.  
On the floor, with the rest of your demons, You sit in the half-light of a half-life.  
Empty another bottle of a subpar drink,
And ask yourself if you're close to the brink.
Just drown it all, till the bottles clean,
And hope to God it's all a dream.
You lean into the wall as you unstitch
And wonder if you're so audacious,
As to light that last cigarette.        
Smoke until the tip can't be seen,      
And let it fall onto your clothes-      
Soaked in regret and kerosene.      
But you think better of it and crawl back in bed.        
Your heart beats calm and you've caught your breath.        
And you hope the nightmares don't drag you away-    
Even away from this miserable lie.      
Rest doesn't come easy after your dreams die.