Where do I begin my journey,
is it walking down the road without turning back
or is it driving past the red lights as fast as I can?

Running away never seemed to solve my problems
like a child throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the store isle.

No longer a teenager
waiting on mom and dad to deal with my anger;
Sitting alone in the corner wondering why the tears
keep rolling down like tidal waves across my face.

The car is on humming that beautiful engine sound
the birds are out and the sun is bright,
but I can't move my body to make that first move.

Am I waiting to make a change or am I stuck in the same routine?
I continuously ask myself as I feel the heat of the sun on my face
not knowing how to change.

Do you ever fall in love with echoes?
See dying embers and find yourself transfixed,
gazing upon them desperately,
for reasons you do not know?

Have you fallen in love with a starry night?
Knowing the stars are long expired but still feeling
a gravitational pull towards
those long dead lights?

I do -

I have fallen in love with far too many
weathered headstones,
lain my heart like flowers at the feet of corpses.
I have dared to speak
with the breath of ghosts roaming
galleries and libraries.

*Can you hear them singing, too?

I live,
In the lucidity of dreams
Undreamt

Eternally naked,
In front of a crowd
Yet, dwelling
In a trench coat style
I'll bare you my soul,
Yet hide my face
I prefer my words, on the wind
Felt,
Never heard
A fading voice
In the chamber of
Never Unlocked
In the realm of things touched
I remain untouched
Unkown
Reality holds no fascination for my eyes
I went blind when the hopscotch grid got washed away by the rain

I live
In the lucidity,
Of dreams
Undreamt

I crawl into worlds of words
to escape the one world to which I'm bound,
burrowing deep inside pages
that carry me away from this cursed ground.
I'm sorry, darling, truly,
that I still run away into these places unknown,
and that I leave you, here,
to face the flames of this burning house alone.

I know that we both thought
our love would give me reason enough to stay,
but my god, I've never learned
to rely on only my spine for support each day.
Forgive me, love, I do not mean
to retreat into the forest growing in the library from you,
but without these daydreams, these
intricate mansions of imagination, I don't know what I'd do.

You can always come with me,
or you can find a heart that does not roam
to the fields beyond reality -
one not used to calling inked castles their home.
Know that when I'm absent, I am
peacefully swimming with the papyrus' tides,
or building a fire of hardback covers -
but I will always return when you call me to your side.