sigh.

maybe i should sleep more instead of continuing with all this morbid stuff. anyway.


a white harsh dreamland of vast snow
that pours over your head and neck
and mutes the muses in your mind
white like the stuffy bear beside your bed
whose eyes they want you to believe
were sewn on or drawn on but you know
that he was just born with them that way.
bead eyes, beads on a chain like planets
following each other, never knowing each other
a chain you cannot begin to understand.

velvet lovers fall away, white eyes and ears
that have known too much about you.
the thick lips of a man that do not want to
learn your dense language but want to
play a trumpet of breezes through your ears,
to nestle with a bird before speaking your name,
to say a sanctimonious prayer and show you
nothing. because it all means nothing.
but have these been lovers? your mind is
not pristine enough to know.

you dance with the lonely bear beside your bed
and terrorize around your room with
thoughts you thought you would never know,
checking the alarm nineteen times
to make sure that you will wake up in the morning;
wake up and watch the magic dissolve.