Ficly

Night Terrors

When sleep finally managed
to take me captive last night,
I sat in the driver’s seat
of an old Jeep, trying to find
my way back to you.
The snow piled up
on my windshield,
and no matter how hard they tried,
the wipers couldn’t brush it away.
The wheel locked and I spun
out of control,
blinding lights
flashing across my closed eyelids.

A snow drift.
A ditch.
My head lay open upon
the steering wheel.
Hands desperately trying to
reach the door.
Another car.
A swift end.

But when I woke up,
I couldn’t move,
and I stared at my wall
in terror until
the morning sun
shone through my closed
window.

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