There's a sort of dreamy
existence inside
all of us-
weaving in and out of
places that we find along
the long road
to nowhere.
Inside. There seems to be
a tiny fragment of
pure imagination
just grasping and clinging
to an inch of life's thin
thread.
Dreams become reality-
reality turns to fear
and ecstacy.
My thoughts burn
a hole inside of me.
Fragile hopes envelop the
one small thing we
encounter
in a vision of
surreality.
I cannot hope
for much.
Whispering chambers choke
the heart and tunnel a
single drop of life's
thick being to
the end.
Wavering, emotional
streams of time wash
away what could
be.
Unstoppable dimensions
bring joy and a sense
of darkness.
-copyright 1994-
Birth sign: Taurus
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