though my bones are on fire
and my flesh is a numb puppet,
I still can't sleep-
the moon is out there,wicked and afloat,
hanging above my head
like a ghostly torch.
...so I make myself a dream,
since conjuring long-lost unconsciousness
is out of my reach:
a dream where I'm perfect and radiant
and red,
a dream where you come and slowly kiss
my forehead,my cheeks,my withering lips.
I'm in an armchair,dress falling
from my frame like a layer of lava
and crimson roses;
you're standing above me,a warm
backbone for that fabricated shelter;
I give up,you lean in,we exist.
and I don't want to let go of this image,
my camera focuses and gets stuck on repeat!
I want to feel something,anything,
even if it's sorrow and defeat!
my head turns out to be a foe
at the best inappropriate moment-what a treat!
underneath my damaged sheets,
I make myself a dream.
2 comentarii:
And what a dream that is! I used to dream of such things too... at least until I got the feeling that I'll be forever alone... But you've still got your chance, make sure you don't waste. Maybe you do need to help yourself, but it wouldn't hurt to reach out for help :)
It is,isn't it?
Unfortunately,I'm renown for waving at chances as they pass me. :))
I know,I know,but..."help me" is harder to say than "sorry".
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