even in dream

in a world of pretend

when my mind is free to make believe

it is an empty void

while awake grand visions dance and frolic

but when all is quiet

it is that distinct lack of anything that smothers my head

shhh

no need to remind that she doesn’t exist

let me write

all is miserable and gray

let me write

the waking brain and the sleeping mind diametrically opposed

it is as if it thinks it a kindness to take away the things i wish for and replace them with shadow puppet theatre

fine then

take this heaping pile of refuse screaming at my mental refuge

light a bonfire upon the myths i seek

empty my mind of imaginary friends and lovers

take it all

but leave a needle jammed into my frontal lobe

a slow drip of what is not in the brackish waters of what is

let me write of these things

so when nothing comes true

those words exist

and they know i never gave up

gave in

but fought the fight until i expired in the sweat stained sheets of wretched irrelavence

let me dream

make love from make believe

let me be

it’s not too much to ask

to be allowed a sliver of dream

even the drowning man thrashes about as his lungs fill

allow me to thrash

let me sink of my own accord since you reject the notion of according me with the basics

undisturbed by the tide beneath the tide

caught in the undertow

where i can pretend