Dr. Sleep,
Put me under and split my mind open
Temporarily remove the infected bits and pieces
And replace them with the illusion that they've been fixed
Help me to not remember what I've been trying to forget
Take my veins and blood vessels, spin them into giddy recollections
Take my heart and stitch the millions of tiny hairline fractures
Take my eyes and make them glassy and un-seeing
Take my feet and point in the opposite direction of the nightmares
Take my emaciated body and fill the cracks with happy lies
Lies to cover up the vile and cruel truths

I see his smile etched into the inside of my eyelids
And every time I close them
They replay it like re-runs of shitty sitcoms on cable
My ears won't stop repeating his words
And my skin wants to shed because it feels filthy and dirty
The weight of the world is resting on my chest
It's so heavy and it stops me from breathing or moving

Once the memory has returned in its full length and detail
It's not completely over
There are always the moments after
When he is gone but his touch still present
And I'm surrounded by uncomfortable darkness

Dr. Sleep,
Put me under
And give me rest with no dreams
Show me peaceful void with no disturbances
Take my mind and cure the diseased parts
And leave nothing but scar tissue
Make it so that when I look into a mirror
I stop thinking of ways to peel my skin off
Thing of ways to scrub my body until his oily touch is gone

Send me dreams of delusion
Dreams of peace
Dreams of cheerfulness
Dreams of melancholy
Something not real
Something has hasn't happened
So when I wake up I can say
It was just a dream