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Literature Text
The dreams that I make are nothing to me
Nothing more than empty scenes
To entertain someone else in sleep
A pretty picture to them, more work for me
I'm not afraid to work
I'm just afraid to sleep
I know I'll have to wake up again
And face the nightmare that I'm in
There's a song in my head
That I sing in my sleep
To keep myself down
To stay in my dream
But when I wake up
The dream isn't true
This nightmare is real
But so are you...
They say true love finds you on its own
It must be lost; I'm still alone
But this city's core is colder than stone
Maybe it wasn't me, maybe it's just my home
I'm not afraid to love
I'm just afraid to feel
I know that once reality kicks in
I'll be lost in my nightmare again
There's a song in my head
That I sing in my sleep
To keep myself down
To stay in my dream
But when I wake up
The dream isn't true
This nightmare is real
But so are you...
Why am I afraid?
(Dreams just don't come true)
And still this nightmare
Wouldn't be real without you
I don't know your name
(Nightmares do come true?)
And still this dream
Managed to stay the same
There's a song in my head
That I sing in my sleep
To keep myself down
To stay in my dream
But when I wake up
The dream isn't true
This nightmare is real
But so are you...
Nothing more than empty scenes
To entertain someone else in sleep
A pretty picture to them, more work for me
I'm not afraid to work
I'm just afraid to sleep
I know I'll have to wake up again
And face the nightmare that I'm in
There's a song in my head
That I sing in my sleep
To keep myself down
To stay in my dream
But when I wake up
The dream isn't true
This nightmare is real
But so are you...
They say true love finds you on its own
It must be lost; I'm still alone
But this city's core is colder than stone
Maybe it wasn't me, maybe it's just my home
I'm not afraid to love
I'm just afraid to feel
I know that once reality kicks in
I'll be lost in my nightmare again
There's a song in my head
That I sing in my sleep
To keep myself down
To stay in my dream
But when I wake up
The dream isn't true
This nightmare is real
But so are you...
Why am I afraid?
(Dreams just don't come true)
And still this nightmare
Wouldn't be real without you
I don't know your name
(Nightmares do come true?)
And still this dream
Managed to stay the same
There's a song in my head
That I sing in my sleep
To keep myself down
To stay in my dream
But when I wake up
The dream isn't true
This nightmare is real
But so are you...
Literature
I Am Afraid Of My Own Voice
You are an entire universe full of stars;
tiny droplets of light,
that integrate to become a part of me.
You inflate my heart,
it was made of paper but now
reminds me of odd-shaped balloons,
to sizes that can not be measured.
I've tried to count the reasons.
that I l-o-v-e you.
But come up short to a million every time.
I am always reminded of your love,
(As if I'd let myself forget.)
Your smile serves as my Polaris:
Ribbons are fastened about my tongue;
I am more than flabbergasted
because there's a part of you in every word.
Literature
You, Me, and the Fireflies
There's a stable that holds consistency and horses
and men who don't know the difference.
There are fireflies- nature's dusk, flashlights,
and men who put them in jars.
Like how they think every person is a star.
We are not stars. We are people.
Do not mistake us for being brighter than we are.
Don't put light on our faces and say "look how bright she shines!"
Shining does not make a creature divine.
We are made in the image of who?
So why do we personify the things we are not.
Stars get names.
Babies get names.
Take the sky for what she is, and she will take you for what you are.
How would the world be if winter storms said,
"
Literature
Un.an.tic.i.pat.ed
Unanticipated
Unanticipated, as I showered
today, I watched long black strands of your hair
coil like water snakes toward the drain,
whipping their muscular way
toward the sewer, slipping through
the surge, singing silent songs of entropy
as they left me to cry
over the scent of your shampoo and the pitted
razor blades that did not leave with you
when death came to take you from our house
and, before the kitchen felt
my feet and fingers searching for
routine, before the bed unmade me
more than yesterday, I again
turned down the frames of you Id
set atop the shelves wed hung
to
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Another song for one of my characters. Eh, it's okay. In case you hadn't noticed, she creates dreams and all that jazz.
© 2008 - 2024 Punk-Lime
Comments3
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Very nice