Dreams
are melting glaciers under my eyes,
when they first meet the sun
upon the dawn.
Tower of ivory, as cold, white hands—
yet soft.
don’t open them—
let them preserve
their enchanting form,
so my eyes shall keep all magic.
For a beautiful moment,
I want to stay in phantasmagoria;
for never, nor ever,
do I want to flee the dream room.

Let’s leave all flowers here alone.

Why has no-one ever felt me?
Am I a plague?
Won’t anyone say?

It really hasn’t dried up
That well to make the ocean
Look like a puddle

Am I lost in the lie?
Is it pride?
Is that what you’d like to hear?
Did I finally go mad
Out of reach
Made it to the top of the mountain
Upon which to preach?

Why has no-one ever felt me?
Or is that stuff
Just make believe?

Am I too much?
Am I too little?
An atom in a universe
Multi-coloured skittle

To be honest
I know as much as you do
As to why
No-one has ever felt me