Cold palms,
They sweat.
A lung fills with gasping breath,
a halt in the throat
(like a train quickly stopping)

Eyes open,
You don’t remember where you are.
You were just in a far away place
Where harmony reaches you
Or chaos consumes you
(This is the garden of our minds).


Here we can travel through time
Like drunks,
So unaware
We hold onto sensation,
We create stories
(are we aware of what they mean?)


These dreams
Can feel so real,
You can almost lose yourself here.
(do you enjoy the privacy of living in your mind?)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s