Or did I dream the whole thing?
Was this really flying?
Towards a sky that held no wonder
for those who are blind to the ground below?
Is it true?
That there is a wondrous world beyond
fluffy condensation filled clouds, that no man has seen before?
The light from the sun is everlastingly warm just as
the Fire burns the oldest oak,
When your hearts been fragmented by the one you thought you loved
The clouds are just as conceived almost like cotton candy in texture
or like the Sherpa throw that laid over the couch at your pa-pa’s place.
There are others here!
Not once does the sting of loneliness that is unendingly taking over your life
Just as the plague carved a black ring in soft skin sentimental and stained the lives of many with gore and terrors;
This is almost too good to be real
I don’t want to leave,
Who is that? Who is calling so casually?
Is that my name?
No one knows my name here
This isn’t right
The feeling of falling is that sinking feeling at the bottom of your stomach
that makes it jump up into your throat
choking you with frog lips and eyes,
This wasn’t falling
This was pulling
this is… this wasn’t what I wanted!
I don’t want to go back…
Let me go!
What are you doing? Leave me alone the darkness is something to be avoided
The tentacles of someone else’s reality grip onto broken wings,9
A thief stripping you of what little you have leaving you buck naked on the
side of the road with no control over who sees you
Limbs are heavy from the fall and pain spreads throughout the body
A New Light,
Bright and synthetic
[So dissimilar to the warmth that swathed around that broken body]
but blinding all the same
no comfort at all
I’d take blindness over this clammy feeling in my palms,
why is it wet?
Who are you?
Who are you to thank God?
He has nothing to do with this horrible feeling
He was not the one pulling me to Hell,
It is your fault!
Why take me from that place?
There was not a second that was wasted
Not a single moment of pain
Relief was rampant through the gold lined gates
I am so tired.
They said I had been sleeping, they said.
I spoke nothing of the warmth and happiness
My lips were seared shut I was able to feel
for the first time
The anger I was feeling at the loss of such a dream
Was simmering in the cauldron of witch’s brew,
The hands that pulled the happiness from my bones
I was free
Not one being seemed to see that the pain that was gone has returned
Not one understood that this reality was their dream
The ripped it from my hands
as emotions have been ripped from their souls,
It wasn’t real.