The last time I dreamed about you
I planted the dream in soil.
When I fell asleep and woke up.
I believed you to have grown,
Like any other flower.
Even if you turned out
to be a rose,
I didn’t mind the ***** of a thorn.
When I wiped my eyes
There was a cactus in the soil.
There are good dreams
And there are bad dreams.
Most bad dreams start off good.
Then become prickly and cold.
I didn’t care.
I lugged you around with me
everywhere.
Pulling out the spines
that stuck me.
No matter where we went
I considered them kisses
From you to me,
And me, I considered my dream
A reality.
Then you got larger.
Then you got heavier.
That happy lug turned to a hard pull.
And those cute little ******
Turned into being stabbed.
there’s a reason why most cactus’
Are found in the desert.
And why some dreams
Are just like a cactus

Burdened hands
with bird in hand
burn in demand
to burgeon man
he lays still
reading the playbill
drinking his DayQuill
unable to change will
burdened hands crave ****
burdened mind shame filled
burdened time grave hill
burdensome brains spill.

There's that stinking
Sinking feeling
In the pit
Of my brain

"You're a burden.
Dead weight
Carry your load
You're better off
Being nothing
But vapor in the air"

I've run from this feeling
By writing
Escaping into the page
Expressing sadness, lust and outrage
Into these words Instead of a shameful display
But how can you run from something
That follows you night and day?
Try as you might to escape...

there’s a few things I carry
despite not having a need
tiny things hidden in my pack
but they don’t bother me

a fossilized shark tooth is my favorite
given to me by a child

next is four different lipsticks
all roughly the same shade

a rock shaped like a triangle
I found on the bay

two pairs of gloves
one brown, one black

a limited edition Dum-dum pop
picked up from my bank

a button from my jacket
I still need to fix

three pens
one black, two blue

still the most useless thing I carry
is my love for you

I give up the crown I've been wearing
Shifting my chin up high though it's a bit light
Spreading my hands wide just to cover sight

I rather be a tree rather than a Queen tonight
Swaying my wings through the wind quietly
Dancing with the darkness in the pale moonlight

I picture myself swimming across the sea
Got full of my own tears as a company
Serving those eyes a show as you can see

The fleeting peace of softly playing music and oncoming dreams.
Too soon I will wake.
Too soon we will pick up our burdens & stumble on.