In my heart is war,

My hands, craft

My lips, love

My mind, chaos

My soul is empty.

I am man.

where do you go when you find out that
your dreams are not dreams,
but are terrors that wake you in the night.
I heard living was easy with eyes closed,
but now i'm haunted with fear
on both sides.

When I was five, and you were eight
You took my hand and said, "come with me"
Over the stile and on the floor, lay a pile of slate
Forgotten.

Together we built a little slate village
For non-existent people to do non-existent things
And within that architecture of simple stone,
We built our sibling dreams