still screaming on the floor

in my dream I’m running from the promises I've made. they show me photographs of all my different faces, each a little longer sadder worse for wear than the last. the final photo is a mirror. I scream at the monster I don’t want to recognise I throw him to the ground. he shatters into slices of the ceiling reflecting shards of sunlight still screaming on the floor. down the corridor I lock myself in my shower run the water too cold not loud enough to drown the embers the photos of the faces I have grown. rage. I scream without a sound ears to listen relief any reason to stop. someone knocking on the door. there are tasks needing tending dishes to wash to dirty again. I look for a trapdoor to only shrink the room. walls start closing ceiling lowers I think about the other ways that people spend their time beyond their cells and scheming torture for themselves. I remember being pulled by my brother tasked to take me back into the ward. he pulls me hands under arms dragging feet kicking limp he is gentle while I plead he listen to ignore the doctor’s orders let’s go home I’ll get better I promise just please don’t let them take me back. we both know that he can’t there is nothing he can do but listen to the doctors they only want to help to make things easier. I cry into his shoulder. he tells me it’s okay, this will pass, I am only ever where I’m meant to be.