October 10th, 2021
I remember the days when I would sleep to chase dreams
I loved to sleep. I closed my eyes desiring the escape into a crazy perfection of imperfection: the colors, the lines, scenes of people- they didn't have to make sense. That was the point of the dreams I had: anything became possible
and in the dream I was God
When did I stop loving to fall asleep?
I drive down High Street saying things like, "If I woke up for you, in your name, for your sake, would I live better?"
"If I slept for you, in your name, for your sake, would I wake up better?"
but I wonder if I've ever actually asked, "If I dreamed for you, for your sake...would I feel better?"
Have I ever prayed for my thoughts before? For my dreams- for the stories I write- for the times I play God and look at the stage and say, "Hey! Actor A, you must step this way and say... 'I love you'."
Who am I to write such words? So young- 26- can I write of anything? Of war, I barely understand history; of passion I've never experienced; of wealth- I can't even imagine... I only just started working a job.
Who am I to say I am God
on paper.
Whose paper?
Or story?
Which character am I?
A Spoken Word Script
YOU ARE READING
Solace (Poetry Book 3)
PoetryRandom thoughts from different moments on various things for infinite reasons. This is my third book of poetry after the first "Poems of the Atmos;" and second "Ambience". Unless mentioned otherwise, none of the photos are mine. The book cover was m...
