Would the apple seeds

inside my belly sprout and --


start to take root there?

No wonder you are just an illusion,
Forming a shape
Making it hard to believe,
That once you were just a shade.

Mocking and mimicking
My fantasies
That were merely and truly,
Tales of yours
In the orchid of mine.

The bedbugs are dead.

So we are not in danger --


Still I am itchy.

Stuck hither in the dark
Not knowing what would come
Waiting for that moment
The painting comes unto me

This canvas bare empty
No color, naught but black
As dark enters the land
The blackness lays bare

No color of thee
No voice for me
Twould be a wonder
How I would shed red

Where art thou river
Gold and silver
Rain falling down
The beautiful rainbow

Where art thou willow
A tree of wonder with light
The fairies of twilight
Pixies dancing with me

Where art thou green
Grass lay tall unstained
Beauty of nature
Where the dandelions grow

Where art thou sparrow
Thou once was with me
Twould visit and dine
Drink of the river

Where art the sounds
The golden harp
To sing unto this plain
Playing in the night

What once was
In the stillness
Within my mind
Where art thou

My painted realm

The other night some man took a trip outside city limits.
He ambled along until he got to a pasture where the ghosts were warm and thoughtful,
missionaries in a newly old land.
They looked as though they were brimming with knowledge on how to live correctly,
but he was just a visitor looking for freedom from thought,
and so asked nothing.
Though he did learn the ghosts weren’t fully translucent.
It seemed there was still blood in them.

I love books
reading them
entering other worlds
filled with romance
and dragons
and magic
and anything you can imagine
so enchanting
the words transport you
into different dimensions
feeling what the character feels
experiencing what the character experiences
the words turn into images
that turn into a portal to the setting
when the book closes
reality slams into you
the rapid change in worlds is jarring

I’ve dreamed of many things
of queens and kings
I've seen within
how soon it takes
for moons to break
and stars to burst
but which came first
the dream or the dreamer
I’ve already been here
a million times
lived a thousand lives
so watch me die
a supernova
still a ******
the sun, my lover
I’ve tasted warmth
and burnt my tongue
I’ve cried through fear
but didn’t run
so still I’m here
lost in dreams
fighting giants
without the means
I’ve been the hero
and the villain
of the same story
so I keep killing
as nobody’s caught me
death to the dream and the dreamer of things
let us see what reality brings.

Acaso no ves, o no crees
y solo Como amigo es como me ves?
Acaso lo sabés o es que acaso No querés?
Acaso lo sabes, pero crees
Que jugar conmigo debés  
Acaso lo que yo pienso creer
Es diferente a como tú pensés
Pero ojalá llegue el día en el que
 Me acerque y lo intente de una vez.
Acaso podrías odiar ese recuerdo?
De cuando pensé “ es peor que no lo intentés”
O es que Acaso al contrario pensés
“ no me arrepiento, estés donde estés”
Puesto que no ha pasado todavía 
Mi letra es única conocedora de lo que pienso día a día
Día a día en el que creo en el momento que pase
y yo quiera repetirlo estés donde estés
Sé que tú no sabés, pero me ilusionas, y es algo que no debés
Pero no puedo impedirlo si pienso que 
Mi boca sin el beso de tu amor se fué
Estés donde estés creo que al final
Lamentablemente por años te recordaré
 Y diré “ Como me hubiera gustado que ella me recordara por ese momento, nunca fué”