#grayrabbit

Why do you think I write? It’s not for art or pleasure. It’s for relieve. My thoughts overwhelm me.

I’m loyal to myself, but a slave of my desires. I’m a hungry hunter, hollow human being. I’m a mannequin.

Sentece me a guilt clause I’m out of reason burned out the fiery spark Changed my seasons. Found some stains and holes In the brick walls we’ve built covered it in paint, but it wasn’t real. Looked over all the flaws Named it love Now is too late to reverse Now saying it will hurt. I’ve been myself and a hundred else Just last night debated in my mind. All of these voices won’t quiet down They drive me insane, but they tell me all “ Open your eyes, my dear, there’s no one. It was all just another bad dream.” Sentence you a guilt clause I have my reasons It was wrong from the start You never listen.

I wake up to find you laying next to me. And you are long gone, lost in the unconsciousness of your mind, living in a dream world. And I press my lips against yours very softly, not wishing to wake you up, but desiring to taste your inner most dream. You do not move an inch, and I cannot tell what you dream about, but I know that my most vivid dreams always become reality in moments shared between you and me.

You said you would be here, and even though I told you not to, I expect you to be.