it occurs to me
that no matter
how deeply dreamt
or fervently wished
the things
that i want
aren’t required
for me to survive
just to live
so i exist in
the pedantic lines
of unread poetry
a half alive spectre
standing in the snow
peering through
the large window
as the lovers
curl up before a fire
content in simply
loving one another
dreams expel endless hopes that are soon dashed upon the rocky shores of reality, every grain of sand a reminder that best intent is merely a way to waste your life but seem virtuous in the face of defeat
How your turn of dream life crashing at the waking rocky shores really came with a very visual reality for me – thank you for such a good example of how visual metaphor help readers meet you where you are.
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thank you for the kind words. i am annoyingly metaphoric in the real world
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As am I; I’m never truly certain if I’m speaking metaphorically or something more like real language. I make up songs for everything. My poor feline friend grows weary of me singing to him. My husband thinks I’m insane.
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that is not insane, it’s lovely. i do much the same, but i am alone so it is probably closer to insanity
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