Recurring Nightmares

(Dark, cinematic synth swells. A distant, muffled heartbeat. Slow, deliberate breath intake.) Yeah. You ever get that feeling? Like the walls are closing in but the house is still the same size. It’s always there, lurking in the corner of my vision. Lights off, eyes open, but I’m still seeing them. The shadows don't leave, they just change shape. Let's go.

I wake up sweating, heart pacing like a runaway train, clutching the sheets, prayin' to God that I’m sane. But the ceiling fan is spinning like a blade in my mind, searching for a peace of mind that I know I’ll never find. It’s a cycle, a spiral, a downward descent into a basement where the demons are paying the rent. I hear the floorboards creaking, but I’m living alone, reaching for a phone that’s dead, dial tone inside the dome. Memories are weapons, serrated and sharp, playing my nerves like a broken, rusted-out harp. Every mistake I ever made is a ghost in the hall, staring at my reflection through the cracks in the wall. I try to close my eyes but the darkness is blinding, it’s like a predator stalking, silently finding every secret I buried, every lie that I told, turning the summer heat into a permanent cold. They say sleep is the cousin of death but I’m terrified to blink, pushed to the edge, watching the vessel sink, ink bleeding from the pen like my veins are tapped, another day in the trap where the spirit is snapped.

It’s the recurring nightmares, shadows in the hallway, demons at the doorway, begging for a doorway out of this purgatory. I’m running but I’m standing still, caught in the wake of a bitter pill, chasing a silence that I can’t fulfill, yeah, it’s the recurring nightmares.

Step into the kitchen, light the cigarette, inhale the smoke, try to forget the things that I’ve seen, the places I’ve been, where the morality fades and the vultures begin to circle the remains of a man who was once whole, now I’m just a fragment, losing control. Was it real or a vision? A precision-cut incision in the fabric of the life that I’m trying to keep hidden. I’m shifting, lifting the veil of the past, praying the foundation is built to actually last. But the ghosts are persistent, they’re digging their claws in, reminding me of all the places I’ve been, the sins that I’ve committed, the bridges I burned, the lessons I thought that I’d finally learned. Nah, it’s a lesson that keeps repeating, while the heart inside of my chest keeps on retreating. I’m a king in a kingdom made of mirrors and glass, watching the seconds turn into hours as they pass. It’s a psychological prison, no bars on the door, just a heavy weight pushing me down to the floor.

The clock is ticking backwards, the mirrors are showing me the man I don't want to be. Staring back at me, are you free? Are you free? Or are you just as trapped as the rest of the debris? I’m screaming inside, but the silence is loud, hidden in plain sight, lost in the crowd.

I walk the pavement at midnight, looking for signs, trying to decipher the jagged and broken lines of my fate, I’m running late for a funeral that I’m supposed to be attending, it’s my own, the message is sending, a warning, a dawning of something that’s coming to collect on the debt, that I haven't paid yet. I’m sweating through the hoodie, hood up, face cold, a story that’s been told a thousand times but never gets old. The cycle, the madness, the sadness, the gladness of being alive, struggling just to survive the night. When the moon hits the pavement, the shadows elongate, turning into monsters that are hungry and irate. They want a piece of the soul, they want a piece of the pie, they want to see the moment that I finally die. But I’m fighting, I’m biting, I’m scratching the surface, finding a purpose in the pain, dancing in the pouring rain. It’s a recurring nightmare, but I’m the director, I’m the collector, I’m the one pulling the strings of the sector.

It’s the recurring nightmares, shadows in the hallway, demons at the doorway, begging for a doorway out of this purgatory. I’m running but I’m standing still, caught in the wake of a bitter pill, chasing a silence that I can’t fulfill, yeah, it’s the recurring nightmares.

See, I'm fightin' the spirit, the demons appear in the mirror, they fearin' the light that I carry, the burden I bury, I'm weary and blurry, I'm rushin' in, hushin' the whispers that tell me I'm finished, the flames are diminishin', hopin' for heaven but feelin' the heat of the hell that I'm dwellin' in, tellin' the truth to the shadows, I'm watchin' 'em follow, I swallow the pride but the pill is too hollow, I'm lookin' for paths that I'm meant to be takin', the foundation is shakin', I'm achin' and breakin', but stayin' awaken, I'm loc'd out, focus on hopin' the chains are just broken, I'm speakin' the gospel, I'm smokin' the pain, and I'm hopin' to regain the sanity, humanity, driftin' in vanity, caught in the middle of insanity, creepin' up, keepin' the faith when the reaper is knockin' at doors that I'm lockin', I'm shockin' the system, I'm listenin' close to the ghosts in the hall, they're callin' my name, they're lookin' for blame, but I'm claimin' the victory, history written in misery, solvin' the mystery, keepin' it G, lookin' at life as a blessing, even when I am distressin', I'm guessin' the lesson is keepin' it movin' until the day that I'm gone, keepin' it strong, yeah, we keepin' it strong.

It’s the recurring nightmares, shadows in the hallway, demons at the doorway, begging for a doorway out of this purgatory. I’m running but I’m standing still, caught in the wake of a bitter pill, chasing a silence that I can’t fulfill, yeah, it’s the recurring nightmares.

It doesn't end. It just fades out. And then it starts again. Every single night. Yeah. Just close your eyes. If you can. (Beat cuts out abruptly to static).