Thursday, July 26, 2007

Dreams

Eternal sadness courses muddy through my veins like an ancient African flood raging, yet soundless, for there is no one there to hear. In this skin it lives and rushes and churns and aches. Even fantasy is infected. I imagine her coming to me, showering me in warm sugar kisses, my cold skin heated only by her touch. But I am dead and soulless and filled only with the flood.I have nothing to offer back, for what she gives lasts only as long as she gives it. There is no room to resonate, and I won't be filled.

4 comments:

JL Kulakowski said...

There's a tap somewhere, one that needs to be opened, to allow the old, the stale, the no longer needed to drain out, make room for the new, the fresh, the necessary....

My attempt at dream interpretation...

FIERI said...

Seems to ring true. It is a feeling I've had since I was little. Like overwhelmed with senses and information, and there's no room for anything else. Maybe it's time to just stop holding onto it.

Anonymous said...

or not. hehe.

FIERI said...

me^

Which meant...

maybe that's exactly what I should be holding onto, just...oh. who knows.