west wind rising into my sleep

dreamt today you took
my baby away
and i couldn't hear
my screaming
over the scrawl
of static in my head.

my subconscious
trying to negate
a negative from a
nonexistence.

my mascara
doesn't flake anymore
because i don't,
either. it's a time
for sticking to things.

the lack of flake-ability
just means it's
harder to wash off.

pick and pull at pretense.
the stray hair
here or there.

till the day
you're out of lashes.
your eyes open wide.

mouth in an o,
a silent scream no.

no, not my max.

it's a dream
without facts.

it's glam black,
but not waterproof.

and there's raindrops
splayed on my roof
between the grumble

of thunder,
of thunderful thunder.