Dreamscapes (alive and well), dancing with mental imagery, (shattered innocence),

kept company by images and thoughts,

(as if creating new times and lives.)

through experience and loss of innocence,

drawing mental curtains around my dreams of purity and lack of responsibility.

striking out against you,

(bone to bone)

fist to flesh,

(eye to eye)

runs like poison in my viens,

(through my heart)

and then into the reflection of my eyes.


you brought me from the highest high to the lowest low in a matter of seconds,

one look,

one comment,

then the wind would blow out of another direction.

anger has bare knuckles, pl

aying over notes of combustion,

breaking flesh,

pounding bones,

do you know what you have done?

(all the things you try to hide away)

deeply hidden, never meant to see the light of day,

beating down civility.


this afternoon I looked at the latest list of all the beautiful people, all tall and thin, blue eyed blondes.

i felt ugly and unimportant,

(bearing guilt and shame)

the shadows of my appearance,

i looked for windows to jumop from,

to find silent peace,

rather than feeling ugly.

no amount of sacrificial absolution can assist me,

the formulaic prayers are no longer heard,

instead they just bounce off of empty walls.

T.S. Deary

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