(8/19/15)

As I drift away into my own thoughts

Voices get farther away

Once more trapped within my own mind

Unaware of my surroundings

The world around goes on without me

As conversations continue unhindered by my absence

In my head is nothing but silence

Then my thoughts begin to penetrate the fog

In my mind I am alone

Don't try to talk to me 'cause I won't hear you

I'm somewhere else now even if you still see me

Lost within myself

Consumed by my own thoughts

So far away

Only half aware when you say my name

I'm daydreaming yet it's unclear

As I sit here thinking

I'm here, but I'm not here

~Shawna K. Whaley

I looked into your eyes
                                    I looked and you faded
The end of my finger tips
Trailing
                                                              Yo­ur heart
Farther                      and                           farther
                                                                ­                                     Away
Than before
But I could never ask you to stay

The mirrors clouded over now
                                                       I
Cant find
                                                    You

Except in the pictures hanging on the walls
Hanging
             In the room
                                I lost the key to
                                                         Before you even left

Every so often I step through that door
And take stock of what I've got
Pretty little things that don't make sense
But are great fun to me.

For example, I imagine
Mist speckled with silver, shimmering each time the wind picks up
Warping and swaying with the breeze.
It blankets a field of white grasses.

Another holds a grove
With electric blue leaves screaming on the hills
Shuddering and flashing with energy
Catching the wind.

In continuation
I made a deep charcoal ravine
Far down flows glowing purple lava
Carving out a riverbed far below
Thick, deadly, enrapturing.

But I can't forget green
Everything back home comes in green
The night sky in my mind
Is the deepest, blackest emerald
With stars piercing through the velvet.

The more I imagine the deeper I go
So then I make
Clouds thick and vaporous
Rumbling and yellow
Orange lightning flashes and strikes
Against the inky black sea
Golden fish flickering like candles within.

Perhaps its silly
But one say I hope to see it again.

Sometimes I get an impression
A hint of what I could have
A small stone wet from the ocean
Or the color of my favorite sweatshirt

Maybe one day I could see it in the flesh.

It's eating me up alive,
Or am I too rotten to be fed?
Alone, inside-out, my head—
Let me out of this horror fest.

Pictures became archives,
Of a repetitive, stagnant time.
Anger manifests itself—
Am I rotten enough yet?

A sharp pain in my chest;
I put on a smile instead.
Juices seeping out, blood-red—
Pages fill my medical files.

Is it supposed to be a crime?
I am my own target.
The old folks lied—
An apple couldn't keep me alive.

Words cut deeper than knives,
Wounds that fester in my mind.
Home to others, not myself—
Am I rotten enough yet?

Peering down from a terrestial heap,
contemplating the debate at the seams,
exposing dim lights and the ones asleep.

I sat awake, in solitude, lost like a sheep.
Per(re?)ceiving all the secrets in ones dreams;
beneath the veil, and the ones that we keep.

What the bars in ones mind are made of are cheap:
confining and containing what one can gleam
from the empty gaps and the mental leaps.

I hope those objects and night-lights help you sleep;
Plato's shadowy projections move with moonbeams,
the brimful moon ebbing causes the shadows to creep.

The farside is bare, in twilight;
the mind becomes a maverick:
turning fireflies to winking sprights.

Can you regard all that I see
when you dream with eyes-closed?
And In your dream do people speak in poem or prose?

Are you transmitting dimensions of three
or are you given your dreams?

Do you wonder who contains those moments
and where they are received?

If heaven is dreaming nigh
I wonder what we would be

If God sent a message
what might be the presage;
And what might be the conveyance?

When you're dreaming Angels touch the ground,
revealing all that is bound.
~dancing with the beyond~
And (angels) evaporate in the dawn, or atleast seeming..

Let your eyes unlock~
Quick! The Gates are sealing
Run to recapture all that they've been stealing:
From all those who wish to lower your cieling.

---

A gypsy is whistling who's been up all night.
The dreams of many slip into hidden spaces:
Closets and under the bed; spirits dissipate.

As morning's light eminates
What do you see?

And so I dig a shallow grave
for the fairytale castles
All of a love that never was,
laid softly in the earth