Dream of a thousand tears (2)

The bad dreams continued. They were a sticky pack, chasing the tails of my sleeping hours and then invading them like cruel gang of bandits.

They haunted me with scenes built on my deepest worries, feeding on my vulnerabilities. I was in there, in those dreams which were so much larger than life and yet seemed so real that I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

I woke up every morning, helpless and slightly depressed. I hate that ! Why don't they just go away already !