Tinted eyelids pull back,
watermelon veins surround a blue disk,
penetrated with fear.

He blinks away sweat,
then scans the ice licked road.
Steam rises from two metal bodies:
Two machine coffins for the corpses.
His nine-year-old, his wife,
and teenagers, all empty remains now.

Drowning,
he breaks to the surface,
and inhales,
then screams.
Screaming for help,
his voice echoes with paranoia.

He awakens to a nurse,
eyes searching,
fingers twitching.
A needle pushed into his skin.
He gasps for air,
and Fluphenazine drifts in his arteries.

His head tilts to the side.
Mumbling, the last word, "Help"
escapes his lips and echoes in his mind
as he dozes.

And dreams again,
of something that never happened
of people that never existed.