swirling  
magical colors
mixing, dancing
pollution
morbidly beautiful
gasoline in a puddle

brief instances when
hands meet and you
would very much like
to linger.

It is possible for there to be no dream
Far out, impossible and too rigid to climb is how it may seem

Full of danger, and only for the brave
The things that you dream become the memories that you save

Not a "what if" but a "when and what time"
Would be the only questions to ever come to mind

Giving up would not exist
More things would be scratched off a bucket list

If only perseverance was more than just a word
These dreams that we have wouldn't be considered absurd

They wouldn't mean anything
For a mistress to a wife

But all those complex visions we see
Would be the adventures of life

Only one whom has known darkness...

can ever truely
appreciate

the gentle reassurence

of
the light.

Crystal raindrops
race the mourning sun
across my
windowed pain