I think I've hit upon a vein. Again. And it's not necessarily obvious.

My dreams become half reality when they make my waking self feel like this.

I wake up crying, and breathless
from trying to make it silent and still.

I have no idea how long it’s been
since I was in that room with a reason for it

but its fading fast. I count the blotches
of salty wet on my pillow, and two on my sheets,

but can’t stop just yet. At least this way
I don’t have to contend with

sharp dried tears in the corners of my eyes.
Only snot, and early morning composure.