Broken Boulevard

You know that dream where you wake up 
Lying against the gravelly tears of a broken boulevard on your back
And the grit digs into your palms like sweet torture 
As your feet slip and grind against the gurgling wet ground as you rise
Wailing "what is this?" "where am I?"
As the dark streets close in like tunnels that echo your screams
Until they melt into a silence that loudens as a reminder of your sole existence
Bearing no one to answer back let alone listen to the questions
And the world spins like a top whizzing across a coffee table 
Until it tumbles over the edge and you are on your knees once again
And you wonder why it is only you and there is no one else here
For aren't dreams the crack between reality where the impossible can happen?
But I guess even in fantasies I only get one soul and that is my own
And when it comes down to the end of my life where I am standing on night's winding road 
Even then I will be utterly alone. 

-anna sluder

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