the fear beats
concrete pillows and
cold alleyways
though
as white lines go by
I wish that they
would continue

interrupted but
focused enough to
lead me there

inferior, but
motivated regardless
such is such
and life is life

lead me to pillows fluffed
in understanding, a bed fit for
a delusional king,
grounded in the caress
of intrigue, with the
spirit of the dreamer
dangling up overhead

take me to where I
can dare to indulge in
the freedom of waking
with the sun, the right
and reason to chase it
to its ends, the need to
be where it finds its
refuge in the dark,
the moon resonating
slight, slipping memory
of since passed splendor

allow me to love,
whatever that means

paper thin walls,
foolish dreams, countless
meaningless things
that bring meaning
to those things
countable and concrete

and in no discreet way
I long for life
for despair
for humanistic helplessness
subject to all things beautiful
and eternal

the fear is in fact the pillow,
the comfort, the shelter
the reminder-
and yet the distraction

one must, one must
turn gold to dust

take the place of
random space,
and fill it with the
tarnished grace

the flaws, the tragedy
the confusing beauty
of it all

I want it to disappear
into my heart
mind
and soul

stardust and delusions,
my being
my mystery

that is what all
is and must be

and I will see this through

*I will be consumed