A Freudian Self-Analysis


#1

I had a dream last night


Dreaming about Tomarrow.


And while the needle, jammed into my flesh


Demands that fantasy, mix with pain


I still believe in Tomarrow.




Bittersweet, this nightly transendence


into the mind’s eye


Leaving the cares, the sorrows, the tears


However briefly.




But dreams don’t stop reality from rushing in


Like an icy wave, slapping against the chest


Taking your breath away.




Wide awake- the pain now has a name


An infusion set gone south.


Yank from leg,


And as blood spurts against the sheets


the stress of the dream melts away.




Well, since I’m already awake, might as well check the o’le blood sugar


After changing the sheets.


No high, no low, graces that early morning scene.


132 mg/dl- precisely where it should be.


And yet, I marvel at the abilitity of diabetes


To steal shut-eye in another unusual way.




Sometimes, I know I have diabetes (in my dreams)


it manifests itself by frantic eating (lows)


and drinking water (highs)


but this dream was just a sense of un nameable pain


that I couldn’t fix, couldn’t help, couldn’t wake up from.




I think that dreams, in general, must cope with said “thorns in the flesh”


reality bites, but its how the world works.


They must coexist- you may never be a millionaire, might not make it to 100.


(statistically speaking, not likely to happen)