Residue

I wake up and my mind is gone,
I’m alone.
Months compressed into a night
the hours seem forever.
Pretend it can last beyond the
sense version I create.
Where shadow pictures are built
up to make a crafted reality
just for my mind.
The detail was perfect,
like walking in a dream.

 

Do you ever have those dreams that you wish you could stay in forever? I certainly do. This poem came from that unsettling feeling that the dream you were in was more real than the life you live every day. And perhaps it is.

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