Sleep Paralysis

In the middle of the night, no sound--
save the four resounding from her speakers
as the terror creeps up her heart.
Stomach emptied and scooped clean
and her toes barely move
her mind reciprocating the fear.
Locks of red entwine with milk-white
and weary eyes see it plainly
scrubbed arms feel it keenly.
Silhouettes against empty windows
she dug her hands into her pockets
but still felt their prickling.
Tomorrow her weary lids will fall
her life won't be new, like she hoped
because she has not changed.
Now the light deadens her nerve endings
and cuts off her heart
from the rest of her beating body.
The taste is sick and gammy
the black and white moving pictures
failing to quell her paralysis.