A Jungian Archetype by Jake A. Martinez There is no safety zone to warn that you’re backpedaling deeper into a dream There is only the twitching of toes kicking inside a hallucination that looks like your body Thoughts flow down the mental storm drain that empties into the polluted river of consciousness Lying tangled in that glow is like waking up with the naked gray man Pasty, hairless with beady, silver eyes and sagging skin, and you wonder if this is just the dream uninterrupted He twinkles inside thatblue light special glow with a mean furrow on his bulbous head, staring deep into you with rapacious eyes Cooking up nausea in your gut because you suspect he’s touched you repeatedly, with those slender fingers But your body doesn’t belong to you You don’t even belong to yourself The things you feel are a carved out niche in the corner of your mind Where vermin trail their urine and bits of crumb never get swept clean Even when your alarm clock chimes in the morning Feeding your ears delusions of I’m awake, I’m alive, I am something real! A narcoleptic understands the secret You are only that darkness floating in front of closed eyelids never anything more Only a fleeting dream, loosely woven in another’s haunting gaze theMeadow 27
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