Wake Me When It’s Over

SLEEP

Sleep drifts, a silky gauze
Descending from angel hands,
Covering me in a thin blanket
Of timeless peace

Till scattered images rock my mind,
A vibrant wind of noisome pictures
Blowing formless tangibilities,
More real than the phantoms
Of my waking hours,
More persistent than the lovers,
Faces fading now from memory
And gone.

What is waking?
What is not?
Where blurs the line?
Is one more real, one more a life
Than nothing shared with many,
This private twisting drama
Speeding night on till the dawn?

Which is my life?
I long for one,
Wish all my hours there
In the comfortable horror of confusion,
Which solidified and organized,
Labeled and sold,
And praised in the marketplace,
I shun.

Too dark for me this bright world.
I close my eyes,
Imagine the colors,
And dream to live.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s