Dreaming
I am falling, dreaming, being, picking everything up, pulling out and pulling in.
I pull out before it ends. The reality of gravity, pushing on my hips and turning me around.
Here is the dust, left from where your heart-strings finally broke mine. The sky will fall down, a new moon with rise to face my wet cheeks. I am so found it is almost stinging.
People try to touch my words, don't tarnish them by taking them onto your person. It was never about you, it was about the breathing and the burning. The word 'you' implys singularity, but I rarely use it that way. No one is a singular sensation.
Waking up with my body flung in such a way that my head is cocked, looking left and sideways when my eyes finally focus. Realizing there are reminants of a streamer tucked away in the corner of the room just like memories of that night are tucked away in an intoxixated fold of my brain.
I am dancing in the flames of something ending, burning, crumbling. How delicious this wonderful destruction is. Dreaming....
Everything is nailed to the ceiling, I'm living upsidedown and underwater. I've learned to let my life burn through so much more than oxygen. Touch it because it is fleeting and beautiful and needs to be captured on film and in bits of sand.
I can breathe and it makes my heart quiver. Deprived of lung function for so long, it felt so good to feel scared with a racing heart. On the edge of some bigger cellular function and muscle spasm and pleasure....I can laugh and here it echo in truth.
I pull out before it ends. The reality of gravity, pushing on my hips and turning me around.
Here is the dust, left from where your heart-strings finally broke mine. The sky will fall down, a new moon with rise to face my wet cheeks. I am so found it is almost stinging.
People try to touch my words, don't tarnish them by taking them onto your person. It was never about you, it was about the breathing and the burning. The word 'you' implys singularity, but I rarely use it that way. No one is a singular sensation.
Waking up with my body flung in such a way that my head is cocked, looking left and sideways when my eyes finally focus. Realizing there are reminants of a streamer tucked away in the corner of the room just like memories of that night are tucked away in an intoxixated fold of my brain.
I am dancing in the flames of something ending, burning, crumbling. How delicious this wonderful destruction is. Dreaming....
Everything is nailed to the ceiling, I'm living upsidedown and underwater. I've learned to let my life burn through so much more than oxygen. Touch it because it is fleeting and beautiful and needs to be captured on film and in bits of sand.
I can breathe and it makes my heart quiver. Deprived of lung function for so long, it felt so good to feel scared with a racing heart. On the edge of some bigger cellular function and muscle spasm and pleasure....I can laugh and here it echo in truth.