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 thud of a hollow heart.  
Your feet hit the ground,  
Hands over your face.  
You get up for the fridge, for another taste,  
Of the bottle of Irish Rose you've had for days.  
It's the only thing you consume anymore,  
Your reason for keeping down the knife..  
No one ever walked in to walk back out  
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.  
You swallow the half empty bottle of a subpar drink,  
And ask yourself so many questions it gets hard to think.  
You drown it all, till the bottles clean,  
And hope to God it's all a dream.  
You lean into the wall, and cry like bitch  
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 hearts slowed down and you've caught your breath.  
And you hope the nightmares don't drag you away-
Even away from this miserable lie.
That is, if you can even sleep.
Rest doesn't come easy after your dreams die.