The Horror of the Demon in the Bedroom

You wake up, and here you are,
Mind snagged on what seems to be

A poem? A text of some kind.
Could be you’re dreaming again,

That dream where you’re only words,
And you’re tied like Gulliver

By ten thousand tiny lines,
Themselves among the many

Ways Gulliver snagged readers.
You hate these dreams where you’re both

Reader and protagonist,
But here you find yourself, both

Once more. So, what happens next,
What’s the story here? Dear god,

Don’t let this dream be lyric.
Awake you had fantasized

Tales of immortality,
Durability, at least,

In the form of fairytales
You made up, imagining

How people might imagine
Fine stories of you, but this

Is just sleep paralysis,
An eternity in place,

A very long time as words,
Just words, stuck with the demon

In the bedroom, the demon
In the bedroom always you.