(Poem 35 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Certain hallucinations scurry like
wolf fox spider lizards on the periphery,
while others hover menacingly close.
Some wail a cacophony of muted pain
at the edge of consciousness’ spine,
competing with their counterparts’ whispers.
Knowing they are not tangible threats
does little to calm the heart in the dark,
rather their insubstantial qualities enhance
the mystery surrounding their existence.
They persist like webs of lies tangled,
ever-expanding and contracting in
sympathy with sleep, though negatively
correlated and eager to maintain a foothold.

@Home Studio – 35^th poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI Creepy Hallucinations photos to accompany my poem: