you

I've been having restless dreams again. I wake up in the middle of the night, my throat burning, and reach for the ancient bottle of water I keep by my bed for situations like these.

It was full last week, and now I barely have enough to make it through another tumultuous night.

I see faces in my dreams and I recognize them, but the context is wrong. You're a teacher handing me a test to go take in another room, sending me away to be alone with my thoughts. You have been an evil carriage driver, a detached waiter and, most remarkably, a loving priest.

My dreams usually have nothing to do with my waking life, but sometimes, I make dim connections that shock me into believing each dream has a meaning. I can safely say you haunt my dreams rarely, but lately, I can't keep you from reaching your fingers into the mist of my mind.

It's you, you, YOU who keep me from sweet slumber. It's you. You. You who keep my emotions kept inside.

You. It's you. Your doing.