Mute

The dreams are frightening
You lay awake for hours
Praying for the peace of slumber
That will not come for you
When you close your heavy eyes finally
The dreams will be waiting
As they always are

The shadow of a man
The glint of a knife
The shrieking of a woman you do not know
Yet she seems familiar
Something awful is taking place
Before you

The shadow moves
The knife arcs
The shrieking halts suddenly
Giving way to the fateful gasps of last breath
There is blood
Rivers, it seems
So red
Crimson

You want to help
To flea
To call out at least
But you remain motionless
A statue
Your voice staying trapped within your constricting throat
Mute in the shadows of your own dreams

You wake in a cold sweat
The sun is rising
Dawn is on its way
And so are you
To another day
Work
The tedious monotony of the job
Is both comforting and disturbing
You greet the many customers
Each face bleeding into the next

Until you look up
To find the woman
From your nightmares
Staring back at you

Time stills
You knew she was familiar
You had seen her before
You want to say something
You should

You want to tell her
About the dreams
Warn her about the shadows
The man
The knife
The blood
Something
Anything

But your voice is in your throat again
Mute as she disappears out the door