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