Survival

I have recurring themes in my dreams. One of which takes many forms, presenting itself in a myriad of fucked-up ways. Each night is a different environment with different faces, some of whom I love. The common thread is the complete collapse of my world played out in scenes of absolute carnage. Bullets and bombs, buildings torn to the ground. Fleeing without knowing if the direction is to safety or death. Are they alive? Protect them, make them listen, make them run. Can’t locate them. Survive alone, find them later. On it goes, battle and bloodshed, strikes and screams. At some point, between fright and flight, I wake.