Early Hours

Unsaid unsung unseen
Such hidden fears play out in the deepest hour of my sleep
On the mind’s eye cinema screen
To leave a lasting daylight question mark
When daylight finally might
Deign to compete with this phone so artificially bright
In my hands a fountain of other scenes to distract from what has not been

Waking in the early hours slowly emerging from a cloying nightmare
Leaving a snail trail of still real-seeming storyline
The phones’ dimmed but still too bright light guides me back
A beacon of real preoccupation to distract
From the lurking fears brought to life in cinematic deep sleep
To the real yet unreal lives of other people
From the half strangers still posting on my feeds
To the real strangers’ Times’ reported deeds
Stories to distract from the dread acted out at night inside my head.