Living the Dream
i have a reoccuring dream
grass whispering its dewy secrets to my toes
The dark invites too many thoughts to provide peace
i see Those Ones through the window
A steel beast lashes its tail which barely skims my nose
its roar no longer shakes my skin
The whisper in my pocket is what makes my skin scramble
until it finds its footing to flea
i know who it is
i know i need therapy
but that would only confirm my insanity
i wish this was a painting with softer colors
Somthing that i could admire
but it is not
This poem is about:
Me
My family