Sleep Paralysis

A numbing tingle begins to spread
No sound, but I try to shout.
A realization. I am filled with dread
I’m back in my personal hell, desperate to break out

Paralyzed as weight sits on my chest
Suffocating on my voiceless screams
There is no one who can hear my protest.
I am cursed with such horrid dreams.

Tears roll down my face
Eyes, shut, scared to look at what I might see
I need to get out of this place
I must gain control before IT gets me.

I let it all fade to black.
But the nightmares come back


©Alissa Vreeland, 2017.




Sleep (Rondeau)

With red bold letters it’s 3 o’clock,
It’s time to sleep, but why does your dog have to bark?
Why does my neighbor have to boom his radio broadcast?
Why do all the the loud shrieking cars have to pass?
Why are there drunks shouting out in the park?

Why do you all have to be such jerks?
If I don’t get any sleep, I might go berserk.
I’m about to lose my shit fast.
I just want to go the fuck to sleep!

So SHUT UP! To the guy on his phone bragging how he got off from work
and the girl nagging her boyfriend to go on vacation to New York.
As well as my father who keeps checking tomorrow’s forecast.
And I can’t forget about the couple upstairs who reunited at last.
This is no sappy special from Hallmark
I just want to go. the fuck. to sleep!


©Alissa Vreeland, 2017.



My Alarm Clock

Friend or foe? I still don’t know,
Are you a destroyer of dreams
or a helper to start my day?
A parent waking a child
or an intruder in my room?

You are always on, repeating the same cry,
a voice piercing my eardrums,
a wail that could even awake the dead,
a shriek that jolts my body alive,
a nagging reminder set on a timer.

Your blinking red gaze is a sight for sore eyes.
Night or day, you are always ready,
even when I am unaware.
I should know better and remember,
but you still manage to catch me off guard.

Even though I protest, you still succeed
awakening the deepest of sleeps.
Are you a friend or fiend?
An annoyance disguised as a demon
or a helper set up as an alarm?

©Alissa Vreeland and miscellaneousliss, 2017.