Dreams remind me of a shy child, never speaking his mind. When you talk in your sleep late at night, Dreams try to speak. They inform you of your forgotten world, nestled in the cracks of creativity inside your brain. Improbable improbabilities and whatever what-not’s your inferior part of your brain conjures stimulates within your crevices of your imagination. It implores to be spread onto a mockingly white sheet of paper, Or shared through artwork and other forms of appreciations. It desperately wants you to remember what it was like to be a child. And live in an unreality. When you wake, you say, “What a strange dream I had? What did I dream?” That’s your dreams shying away. It tip toes past your eyes and quietly resides in the back of your mind, And backs up into your invented world, slowly closing the door behind him. Mental Note: Don't let yourself grow up on the inside.
Tell me you're not gone gone. Tell me that you've gone to visit family in Minnesota, Maine, Colorado. Tell me you're off to Branson, Missouri with Papa to watch country music concerts live. Tell me when I said goodbye to you at Patsy's back in January, that wasn't for good. I need you. I'm not grown up yet. I need your hugs. I need to hear you say, "Hi honey" when you enter the room. I need your laugh. I need your reassurance that I'm doing ok in the world. I need to hear you say, "I love you." Tell me that you can still do all these things. I think I understood how your lungs must have felt Seeing Papa without you by his side made it difficult to breathe Family with you felt wrong. Your celebration felt like a party without you invited. It rained on your memorial celebration. How can life be complete without your love and humor? You were Christmas personified. You were joy and love in the flesh. I know that if I had...
Brace yourself world! I come full throttle. Like a ninja warrior, sneaky, assertive (but with a feminine style). You might never see me coming. You ambush with ninja stars of soul piercing heart ache, or an occasional bomb combusts into a ritual of disappointments. However,I've been trained, and your moves are predictable. I see them coming like distant rain clouds. I'm ready to look you in the eye,and tell you that you're weak. For every event that appears bad in our lives, there is an underlying good, and you've done so well sweeping it under your rug of lies. I can't help but smile. I know that this annoys you world, but my indestructible moves, make me undefeated. While you've made your choice to go against man, I've learned mankind is not hopeless. Watching you get angry brings me joy, because you've sat and watched me suffer, for as long as I can remember. So now that I'm older, you're not so skilled. The student h...
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