My ramblings....

The Imagination is Not Safe

Closeness

I fear to admit that there is a pressure I feel which stops my breath. It rumbles and burns, oh what a furnace inside. It would be a lie to tell of non-exsistance, but it is my imagination that haunts me. Yes, it dances like a puppet and the strings are in your hands, but you know nothing of this, oh dear, be kind. In an instant of weakness I call your face into my mind and I am uplifted to the realm I am not ment to discover, my poor heart does not take kindly to a dampening and a crash. But from a momentous tower I will stand with you

And it rages and rages

And I can not fathom you

Are you not real?

I did hope you would be. That is the breaking of bones. Do you hear the cracks? Have you found your own anatomy of sorts, a life force to hang onto and hope it will wisk you away to a waking of dawn or a fury of elements?

I should stop this

posted by Unknown @ 9:40 PM