JourneyI see you in my sleep.
In this sequence of dreams,
you are here with me.
It's been so long, it's been so much..
Though I would shudder at your sight,
I would still shatter at your touch.
I am in denial, that I am depressed.
I'll try to bargain with you,
then share my anger with you.
But I can't complete the full cycle of mourning.
I struggle with acceptance.
I can't forgive myself.
The will to give makes the best of nothing.
It is, a philosophy.
That states you will continue to give to this world,
knowing you will never receive.
The will to live is easy, you can exist without a care.
The will to die shows it meant so much,
that you couldn't have it, and couldn't go on living without it.
The only change I make, before I leave,
is in the bedroom of my dreams.
I paint the walls in deep blue paint,
and then with my blood, and with my brains.
The movement from the sheets,
creates a breeze. Sweeps the dust from its place.
It so quietly swarms, and hangs in the air.
It shines in the li