How could you be so blind
To think the worlds colors
Are only how you see it;

When every night before
Dusk cloaks us
with a diamond dusted blanket
As Mother paints us a sky in watercolor
Just to show that different hues blend beautifully.

Through refreshing rains;
Breath's creation

Love does not give flowers.
Love does not speak in
Poems,
Or rhymes.
Love is a sigh
That makes you whole.

I am dyslexic,
And I can spell:
D-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n.
Font wards and backwards.
I can invent new ways,
How it looks,
sounds.
I am dyslexic
And I stumble over the word:
L-I-F-E.
This lyfe's
Syllables I have yet to conquer
Or the ability to make it possible.

Life

                               Lyef

           Liph

                                
                                           Lief

There is no such thing as old school romances;
Just delicate photos,
And
Dried up roses.

Stapled on a string
I fly so high.
      
           *

Keeps me waiting for
the life,
When i wake up myself
from this surreal reality.

        *

Its just a dream.
Its all just a dream.