(no subject)

[inspiredx3]

I'd like to pretend to sleep,
For awhile.
Where my senses run dull and
Can no longer feel the deep,
Sensitivity of all that has burdened
Me, in ways I cannot
Interpret to be true.
I am caught under bed sheets,
But they are so very heavy,
Made of wood and concrete;
Upon them sits the weather-
In forms of coldness, warmth, and
The barrenness, it ages me,
Across me comes the greeness too,
While I just lie there in all my dreams
Encompassing me while the birds
And streams, and clouds roll on by
They whisper their thoughts to me as my soul;
It perches upon the edge and
Upward it goes.
Until I'm tingling, until it's said
To be that where my body shall be;
It is there,
I will finally be free.