0:00
You’re dreaming
I’m wandering
Chained to the floor
Under the scathing Moon
Counting the crimson beads
Trickling down my palm
Whispering to an old face
How far I would go
While holding onto my pillow
Sprinting like a maniac;
Searching for a reason
To stay and wait
While you lie asleep
In your quiet world
Of rainbows and curses;
hatred and warmth.
Your dreams have meaning;
Unlike my being.
AHighPoet 