The steam lifted from the mug, polluting the air with that fresh coffee smell.

As I glance out the slightly ***** window, it was just starting to sprinkle.
The leaves on the trees were dancing the rain.

A cool breeze found its way in when someone walked through the door.
It climbed up my spine, I've had this feeling before.

In the background I can hear people talking and coffee brewing.
Gentle background music gently kissing my ear.

I look back outside and there I am, standing in the rain.

What was I saying? I can't read lips.

That same chill climbed up my spine, but the door was closed.
I look back outside and I was gone.

What did I say?

I take a quick sip of my coffee, burning the roof of my mouth.
That's when it happened, the bright lights stunning my eyes. A red car crashed through the front window.

Killing me instantly.

**"Get out... get out now"

In the monsoon,
I walked colonised streets
trying to befriend a city,
forged fields and bright street lights,
they often vanished inside my eyes
to see happy children on beaches;
glass ceilings shattering to find a sky,
that broke down abruptly
to weep on my shoulders.
I swam in the rain
only to meet those children at the beach.
They roofed me under white curtains,
for the Witch might try to grab me,
plait my hair
and take me back
to her hall of circus.

Every flower,
every breeze,
every wounded bird in a city
are part of a folklore
where minstrels live,
they all sing me
back to beaches.

And she says no.  The cream light
under her back porch’s awning collects
in her tears.  She slides her toes
within the tangle of grass and
weeds beneath us as we sit
in damp folding chairs.  Fogfruit
wanders amongst the webbings
on my feet with soft, upward strokes.  
I echo myself again in hopes
of tapering the night.  
Can I leave?  

And she says no.  Fogfruit
under her damp folding chair slides
in her tangle of grass and weeds.  She echoes
soft, upward strokes
beneath us as we sit
in the cream light.  The night
wanders amongst her back
porch’s awning with myself again.  
I taper the webbings of my feet
in hopes of collecting her tears.  
Can I leave?  

and she says no; fogfruit still
between my toes

Keep the lights on when you sleep
and avoid submerging too deep
into your dreams, for a string
of shouting matches and glinting knives
tumble down in the dark
of the moon, rapping on the door like
knuckles rolling
over and over with a pause in between for
bated breath, wanting to swing
like a pendulum wherever
it pleases.  Keep the lights on, and
you can at least unlock the door.

Three sugars. No cream.
Stuck inside a 4 A.M. Dream
And there's nothing I can't do
Is the sky really black or just dark blue?

No cars, no souls save preying police
Their lights burn red and scream, "Freeze!"
And the night obliges
For it is not so mighty

Glass half full, still starving
Clouds overmind work their sky carving
Of all my favorite fluffy animals
Are vampires iron deficient cannibals?

The sun soon breaks like an egg on the edge
And the dream skitters light spiders from my head
Eyes pressed to withered pillow sheathing
Is this morning or deeper evening?

Am I waking from the dreaming
Or am I sleeping next to coffee steaming?

I was chicken
dropped only a half tab--a quarter before midnight  
and hurried back to my apartment
before the day changed    

from a Monday
to a ruby Tuesday  
where my walls melted
and music smelled like sassafras;
the flickering flares of light from two fat candles  
tasted like toasted almonds    

every eternal hour, or minute,
or so, I would try to tiptoe down the hall  
past the sleeping neighbors who were all dreaming
of me, skulking past their locked doors

but I never made it to the street
a feat that would have demanded
I stop giggling, and my heart stop thumping
for any pig or narc could have seen
my crimson machine pumping
ready to fly from my chest    

dawn did finally come--I was
coming down, down from the floor
on which I had lain from the minute
a ferocious fly dive bombed me
somewhere around three  

I walked to the corner grocery store
where I bought pan dulce, and was glad the clerk
spoke no English, for surely she would have asked me
to tell her how I survived such an aerial assault  
in peacetime

If every time
I close my eyes
It's like...

All of the thoughts and memories I possess
From the very first to the absolute now
Are being played over and over and over

Again...

In fast forward
And they're flashing so quickly
I can't even enjoy them?

*It's like they're not there at all...

Sprung from forced pleasure
And the repression of my stress,
Half conjured and half spawned did the perfect angel I cannot move past throw me into ecstasy when I gained knowledge of her detail,
How real she truly is.

Weak do I fall,
Curves adorn your lips...
You had no fault,
You were right in catching on to my myriad ulterior motives,
I was only wrong to doubt your abilities.

Where does beauty end,
And where does it begin that I'm filling you in, and you don't have to try?

It's blurred as it's been for months and it's time I realize
That you were only ever as real as you were tonight.

I'm a million different people
Each day
Sweet to bitter
Maniac to recluse
Dead to undying
But the destruction is always
There
With me wherever I go
So I went somewhere new

Cut off my hands
Sever my spine
So I don't act on my
Impulses toNight

The call of the void
The violent possibilities to violet
Situations, like

The lights of the
Night box
And I'm dancing
Always dancing
Dancing
And I took the money
And I kissed a stranger
And cheated on the game
I drank something strange
The spider on my wrist
Has multiplied

Throw it
What?
Fall down
Why?
dO It

Is this really happening?

I'm drowning in my stream of consciousness
There is
gliTch
In my system

And the lights are more purple
Than they have ever been
And my Instincts
Tell me to run

But the man in black
Calls to me
And he is insatiable

So I went to him
And he drank me dry
And we danced together
And I am undying
With a stranger

Is this really happening?

My skin isn't mine
The music made me deaf
But I'm still dancing
And I'm still craving

Stranger than I have ever been
Because I am no longer

aLive

Was I really speaking with her, or was this all in my head. Because it seemed like a fever dream, that wouldn't end. Like I was awake and asleep at the same time, stuck inbetween. But I'd only wished it was just a dream.

The scientists say it could all be a hallucination, but how real a hallucination can be.
*Real enough to hurt you.