Suspended in a raindrop that never fell.
A memory that hasn’t happened
replays on and on
but I won’t tell.
I won’t speak on the endless hypotheticals
swimming in and out of this bubble
nor the prison I made to contain
these thoughts heretical.
And honestly, I don’t know how to swim.
I was supposed to learn
from someone wrong,
but my fear led me here as it always has,
to my dreams, where I may as well
be the comedian and audience.
Both in and out of the cell.
So meet me in a raindrop,
just don’t forget the key.
The guard’s shift is up at dawn.
I’ll be sure to change the sheets.
There wasn’t much to this dream, but there were some images to hold onto.
So typically when I realize that I’m dreaming, one of two things happens. Either I gain control and can do whatever the hell or (more often than not) I lose all control and my subconscious turns on me. The latter happened here. Terrifying, sure. It’s like every person you see is out to get you, and even the walls and nature itself are crumbling under my feet. Like I’m literally in a mind prison of my own making. It’s terribly fun. But dreams like these usually don’t really stick with me, for obvious reasons.
This one was literally set in a prison. And usually, the trigger for the mind prison is that I realize that I’m dreaming. This time, it was more like my subconscious was targeting me for being me and then I realized I was dreaming. So I was fighting to wake up while trying to escape. Fruitless efforts, of course. Because that’s how my brain works. But luckily, the sound of rain woke me up.