Scars Forever Fresh
To sleep, per chance to dream, words borrowed for my comfort
I'll steal whole dictionaries, if only to absolve this hurt
Word by word I'll fold them up, my own paper airplanes
Send away on the breeze my troubles and my pains
If only I folded up so easily then I too could be free
Instead I drag with the discomfort of granite that is me
Looking for the magma to melt and reshape my being
I'm blinded with chaos and still I'm cursed with seeing
This ugliness will consume everything left of this rock
And leave nothing left consumable among my stock
So now this reality weathers me into my resolve
A quest for a coma is beyond me to self-involve
Still staring at the storm clouds I'm filled with envy
To not choose but live is surely a better way to be
Each step, a new breath and so a resewn seam
I live because I have to, but still I wait to dream
...who will you be dreaming of?
My Poetry Portfolio
