Needless Things: Sanguine Night Terrors

In the crimson static of midnight’s hum, my mind unravels, my senses numb. Dreams flicker—half code, half scream, I’m bleeding pixels through the seam.

Errors bloom like roses in the dark, each thorn a spark, each pulse a mark. Reality loops, a corrupted prayer, my shadow twitches, I’m not all there.

Sleep becomes a broken screen, haunted by what might have been. Faces stutter, melt, rewind phantoms glitch inside my mind.

I wake, but I’m still dreaming’s prey, trapped between worlds that decay. A sanguine haze, a looping error, the ghost inside my own night terror.

And when dawn tries to cleanse the code, I’m left with echoes I can’t unload red light dripping from the sky’s cracked mirror, a heart still screaming in digital terror. NNN