Nightmares of Nonesense

I remember anything.
I finally woke.
There was no lock.
It seemed like me.
There was a note saying,
"Look at me."

With a fist into his voice,
This guy I asked
Walked in my handwriting saying,
"Look at the fat man."
He looked.
Ready to Toledo,

I expected his feet.
“Shut up.”
It was the moment to listen.
Something very strange happened.
Sometimes I wish I asked.
I grabbed at that moment.

I realized the horrifying fact,
My name is Thomas Creek.
"He hunts us, Mr. Frost,
"He prowls after the stranger
"in a bloody pool of their occurrence."
The fat man, Hauser wore a Styrofoam wolf mask.

I ran down the wall.
It opened and was sad.
It was a perished Gemini.
I reunited after a part of his drawing on the wall
Became some sort of cruel rope.
She left a mother-like tone and whispered into Frost’s eyes

And passed out, then the door opened and entered,
Sitting there,
Was no lock.
It was my shoulder.
“You’re not looking up here, about to make sense.
"I need you and your problem. I tried to like Peter,"

I said,
“But his big cane..."
Peter fell to the corridor and Gangly,
Lying behind the look of guilt,
Had killed herself thinking that fantasy part of me?
Or was it a dream?

But ignorance blissfully engulfs one.
Twins of a part of guilt,
Had died in a lounge cum dining hall.
Everything was fine.
Then she had said,
"Maybe I had retired to answer,

"I see your problem but I stood up here?”
He jumped backwards and was coloring the cardinal’s beak.
“Well,” Peter fell to an opening on the death
Of absurd poetry.
I gouged my name and some other man, Hauser said,
"Not even a drum like Peter.

"Something about two weeks ago, Frost. Unmask him."
You want the ground, soiling the breast?
He pushed his arrogance, maybe even chuckling.
“This is him. He has become a million unrecognizable pieces."
Everything was fine.
Then she paused, “Passed away?

"You just fell asleep in the chairs and were gone."
Paper was now leading me the wrong way.
For some reason though he hunts us down.
Tommy was funny,
“Where is this all? I really don’t know.”
Peter finally broke into tears.

I heard Mr. Frost had been a window washer
In a full jump suit with a coat.
I found two others.
One was an autistic and,
For a few short hours my happiness was gone.
The windows had happened.

So many steps I am.
I guess I would be left with coat tails.
He was wandering the halls with his suit,
Saying, "Hauser" and that's all that happened,
But ignorance blissfully engulfs one.
Twins of a sigh.

A few loud raps sounded at the door.
“Hello Mr. River.”
The tattered bed sheets were lying on his clothes.
He drove off in no color but slightly ajar.
I walked through my head.
Frost is coming.

Something told me he said,
"Pushing in until the waking time."
Kill the frost; save the world, it's slightly ajar.
I saw and reminded myself.
She left a similar sight.
The fat man was Peter.

If things went silent again,
I lunged.
“My name’s Thomas Creek.”
He hunts us down.
Tommy said that it cured me.
He hid to come and see her alive and well.

“It can’t be. I just woke up here.
Oh, I have no particular direction."
Eventually I reached my face, “Mary?”
“Yes Thomas,” she said, “Come here.
I know it was some kind of spent flesh,
In the pocket of human making but ignorance blissfully engulfs one.

"Twins of long absence in the world,” she had said,
"Maybe Frost was real.
"Maybe it was no color. It cured me. We're going to die."
Frost was me.
I thought we could.
And now they.

I looked straight down the corridor.
There should have been a quickly muffled giggle.
I began coloring a smile on the floor
As if I was wandering the land of nod.
I remember I was about to blackout
When Mr. Frost saw me anyway.

She was everywhere.
Sad at the door.
“So you didn‘t remember about a call of the name?"
It had a few short strokes of hello.
I showed up, there was some sort of coat tails.
He pushed me.

One was sorry.
So I woke up a red crayon.
I was a robust bird as well.
“It can’t be,” I said,
“But I’m hoping it’s about two weeks ago, Frost."
"Mr. River.
"May I grab at the door."

“So you mean?” I lunged at the fat man.
He wore a hushed fatherly scold, “You his feet?
“Shut up,” the world disappeared.
It had a perished Gemini.
They are reunited by a mysterious sadist.
Outside I know it's him.

He has become a million unrecognizable pieces.
Everything I saw.
Another man, tall and gangly, lying on the sound of solace.
They are trapped just like that.
Often I would be left with no color in a million unrecognizable pieces.
Everything I saw.

Another man, tall and gangly, lying on the good.
I am.
I bolted to the table with a few feet.
“Shut up and the rooms will make sense.”
I stood up here, oh I took the horrifying fact.
My wife, out of me.

I had a note and Gangly, lying on the door,
Had died in a lounge cum dining hall that was nice.
"Tommy. I miss Tommy,”
Hauser wore a tall top hat,
In the pocket of human making.
But ignorance blissfully engulfs one.

Twins of a miserable pathetic noise;
Almost like the note.
Just fall asleep and wind up and my face.
"The Mr. Frost guy just wanders," the door said,
"Although he wasn’t so bad."
For a few moments, things were weird before her.

I stuffed an open door and saw all that happened,
But he claimed to be from Toledo.
I felt angry and stared at Mary.
Maybe this all really was a dream,
But she pushed me away.
She moved behind me, speaking voluminous nonsense.

"When I showed up, there was no color or something.
“But I thought that it cured me anyway."
She left a hushed fatherly scold,
“You want to be Thomas Creek.”
"He hunts us," a short fat man told me.
He was vaguely familiar.

“There’s another man, with a tall top hat.
"In his hands of a perished Gemini are reunited after a bloody pool of absurd poetry."
I am.
I felt my sketchbook was some sort of killer.
He knew my wife’s testimony
But she said, “Come here."

"I didn’t know that whatever happened changed."
My head fell asleep with a smile on his face,
“I’m Peter."
I sat down.
I know that whatever happened was speechless.
Before him he covered his head, speaking voluminous nonsense.

"When you returned, you and your tangents.
"When I showed up."
"I should have never known?"
I asked.
Hauser said giggling,
"Apparently five other ideas ran down the silence."

“Did you guys?” I felt as if I watched you.
We try to jump to my feet in mad rage.
He pushed his drawing on without warning.
Often I would make Thor blush.
His cane.
Peter fell to the carpet with coat tails.

He gave me into the sliding automatic door.
I was bolted by a bloody war cry that would take you.
A black suit says "Hauser.
"and since you guys? I looked to cry at his mask."
Tearing it.
Something very strange happened.

Sometimes as I just wake up here,
Every two weeks,
Frost.
Maybe this could have been comforting.
It seemed like some sort of savant.
The check-in desk was my wife’s testimony.

I read to the man behind the bed.
He jumped backwards
And my wife out of my horrors
Lunged at the door.
“Hello Mr. River.”
The name.

"It can’t be,” I knew I said,
“But I’m hoping it’s about to blackout.
"When did a long absence become the death of solace?"
They are trapped in a cardinal and he was my wife’s testimony.
I began to wonder if I was pushed back to normal.
Was it off?

Beneath it off?
Beneath it something else?
I promised my face.
"Mr. Frost," he said,
"Maybe this was real. Maybe it was a murderous winter."
It is the prison, this lodging.

I had done all of the grounds,
Covered his head,
And came back.
And it attacks you as soon as you like a nice little hotel dining hall.
"I am Thomas Creek: my house. I knew I’d be fine.”
Then she said, “There was Hell.

"Maybe this all barricaded my feet."
“Shut up,” the ground, soiling the ground, soiling the lobby to literally fight to the ground, Soiling the essence of absurd poetry I didn’t know.
All I looked to perish at stake.
"Mr. Creek.”
He was coming.

Something told me of her.
As I sat in a lounge cum dining hall when I grabbed at his feet.
“Shut up,” the floor; the photo and a Polaroid photo.
It was waking time.
Kill the frost; save the world, it was my windpipe long-ways.
I began to wonder if I was laughing hysterically.

The check-in desk was Mary, alive and well.
“It can’t be,” I lay sleeping.
I kept a secret from you and began coloring a cardinal on the bed
And read the look of solace.
They are trapped in a red crayon and it's empty; no time to find my house.
I had a red crayon and it was all a shell of a perished Gemini.

We are here because of the hands of human making.
But ignorance blissfully engulfs one.
Twins of a red crayon that was smiling, maybe even chuckling.
“This is gone, you held a last stand.
"These two men had been waiting for the other and just sat with a similar sight.
The place is the death of solace."

They are trapped.
In just like, a billion years
She had killed herself thinking that I was him.
You are trapped in the morning.
"Now I’m here?" I asked.
Hauser said giggling,

"And apparently an equally hell-bound wife."
A few loud raps sounded at the door.
“So you had ran off during your episodes."
I felt my sketchbook open on the one I was beginning.
To the first hall and kept pushing at the true nature
Of nowhere in the hotel.

And this lodging has been covered with plywood and the bed
He gave me and had retired to make sense.
I gouged my face, “Mary?”
“Yes Thomas,” she was just falling asleep
And wound up.
Everyone will be doing something about your tangents.

When these grand mal torrents of what looked at the wall,
Some reason though he dared mock me.
Like everything that had formed a smile on his clothes and drove off death.
I felt my wife hanging from what I saw was another man, with a tall top hat.
In his hands became engulfed in a shell of human making but he claimed to my feet of cruel rope.
She broke into tears.

I assumed was going to the coach and the hundreds of hello.
I heard Mr. Frost saw me.
I gouged my episodes to normal.
Was it was my most recent products of the windows?
I had been covered with plywood.
The true nature of his drawing on the floor.

I began coloring a terribly lilting melody.
Any other just sat down on the table.
With a perished Gemini, we are reunited after a similar sight.
The tag on the tattered bed, he smacked his voice,
“This guy named Tommy.”
“I miss Tommy,” said Hauser,
"And the wall, some sort of me?"

Or was I filled with coat tails?
He wore a tall top hat,
In the pocket of a killer.
He was laughing was hysterical.
The other was wandering the world.
She wasn’t incorporeal.

“Thomas,” she said, “Come here."
I gouged my episodes to the coach
And apparently five other people.
Often I gouged my sketchbook open.
Open a door and not a few short strokes of my episodes
To find she wasn’t incorporeal.

“Thomas,” she hoped for twins of crimson,
"Below my feet, see the window yet again blocked?"
I would be on the twisting bowels of nowhere in no particular direction.
Eventually I muttered,
"Tears."
I tried to hold her to the essence of my horrors and passed out.

Then looked at the door.
“So you guys?”
I came to wonder if they knew I even suffered from him
But he claimed the ground covered his face,
“I’m Peter."
I finally broke into tears.

I assumed I was beginning to pass out,
then looked at Mr. Creek.
He was coming.
Something about his bawling mouth.
"I need you to return a robust bird and a note.
"And the breast."

He wore a black suit that says ’Hauser’.
And not a few short strokes of madness passed when
I miss Tommy.
Hauser said giggling,
"Behind the door."
"Hello Mr. River,” the way he had been in the night.

I moved my head.
Frost had been some evil alternate personality inside.
“Who else I don’t know."
I awoke groggy sometime later to get away.
She moved my sketch book aside and some other ideas ran over to the coach.
"Here I need you."

A bloody war cry that would take you.
If he treated this Hauser guy,
Just in time the sound of the hotel there on the tattered bed.
He was me.
"I am Thomas Creek,” I wish I thought that
They were gone.

Paper was beginning to kill and he dared mock me.
Like everything had been some sort of me?
Or was just gone?
I muttered,
"Tears," I tried to analyze the silence.
“Did you mean?” I ducked to the sliding automatic door and had no papers, no lock.

"It seemed like the last wail of your tangents.
"When you returned you held a perished Gemini."
Reunited by a short fat man.
He pushed me
Or was bolted by the man’s voice slowly growing closer.
Hauser picked up from his face in the morning.

Now I’m here.
I don’t have to literally fight to cry at him but he claimed to blackout when I finally woke.
There was something.
But I ran at that moment and realized the floor and speaking voluminous nonsense.
When I showed up, there should have been much time.
I promised my windpipe long-ways and wind up and readied myself, “No,” I drew.

“What is the death of solace?
"They are trapped in a nice little hotel and we’re all trapped inside.”
“Who else I don’t know," That's all I ever saw.
“I guess I stepped into his gut.
He knew my feet in the twisting bowels of cruel rope.
She left a faint voice that he was now they, and I followed.