I live in a world all my own
inside my head
through fantasy, I roam.

One of magic, heroes, and might.
One of darkness, clouds, and endless flight.

I could lay in bed and dream my life away
no wish or want for the reality of the day.

Realism pushes through my blinds at sunrise,
reminding me I need to wake,
and live my dull, mortal life.

I depart from my dreams with trembling breath, goodbye.

Until I return to dance with my thoughts at night.

Free flow, a style i'm having trouble understanding. My thoughts a faster pace than it can even begin to fill me in on? My mind is the speed of light yet I can't fathom the concept? My perception is what proves reality, yet here I am chasing ghost and making up excuses. I've lost track so many times the light years of my nerves have aged. My spirit is uplifted, but I find myself separate. This might just all be senseless, but to me I'm making more sense than any man. I am my reality, so it doesn't matter if i'm accepted.

highs and lows
of meeting new people
is exciting until
they never speak to you again.

when you call me by my name

it’s a warm cup of coffee on a cold morning
the scent wafting room to room
the sleep in my eyes just falls away
and although I can’t see you
I can hear the smile on your lips
and I can feel the warmth in your chest

when you call me by my name

Thoughts wash over the mind
like torrential, self-inflicted rain.
But I'm hooked on stormy seas
and allergic to plain sailing,
- drunk on self-stimulated danger.
Like a **** show on the TV
you can turn it off when you please,
but the white noise occupies your mind,
so you turn it up and press repeat.