Night terrors

I know that my dreams are not real and do not exist, but I am still continually frightened by the burdening memories they each play upon me. 

As if they have consumed so much of me that now almost half of my life is being spent in an abnormal torturing reality of false illusions. 

I ask for a sign.

The sign of strength and courage to fight through this wandering mess that’s been weaved within my aching mind each sorrowing night.

My haunting dreams spill over into my waking existence turning my heart into a fragile mess once again. 

For now reality is only the few hours of daylight casted over me until the frozen night takes me underneath its tidal waves of madness.

Never knowing what just might show up the moment I rest my soft spoken, and saddened eyes of despair. 

Leave me be, dreadful visions of memories, from clouding me and my suddenly dazed mind! 

For there is no room to be shared with these terrors from the night when my heart is eagerly yearning for safety and love. 

I spend another morning sitting and praying, for the hope of a nightmare that I will not remember when I awaken.