to sleep, perchance to dream
but all the dreams were militant and bitter like the last words spoken before bed in a state of mind that precludes the rule of not going to bed angry
and all the bitterness awoke in the darkness with a head full of clouds and a struggle for sleep
immunities start weak, especially against militant words
and waking with the sun is too soon or too late because you can't take anything back
tiny bits of pharmaceuticals and herbs as a combat aid
programmed chemicals against the ones you didn't expect
there are no drugs for the dreams I had last night
or the dreams you had
where we tore each other limb from limb in bitter hatred
no bitter bit of chemical to wash down with water
nothing to ward off what can't be explained
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