Sweet Dreams, Momentarily

Your body needs a rest,
but your mind will get the best
of any lie you dole out
until you shake and shout.
Prolificacy
is a sin, you see,
but what matters most
is that meddling ghost
behind your eyes,
muted and paralyzed.
Measured words - like incantations - shoo
away the demons haunting you.
A proverb, a poem, a lullaby,
lingering tales, then a sweet goodbye:
a sentence with resolve
and your specters dissolve.
Sweet dreams, momentarily.
'Til you wake warily.
Razor blade daydreams:
your muse, it seems
and now you can't stand
the blood on your hands.
It's a story untold
or too folded to unfold:
tuck it tightly twixt your teeth:
hide the secrets underneath.
Hold your breath and just pretend
that you control the way this ends.

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This is about all the things you try to do when you're feeling your weakest, but sometimes it gets the best of you anyway.








"'Let a vast assembly be,
And with great solemnity
Declare with measured words that ye
Are, as God has made ye, free -"
P.B. Shelley The Mask Of Anarchy (Seriously, read this poem and ponder upon it.)

"He has a halo, for dreams return to dust. Words dissolve on the page like tears in blood." Sunny Day Real Estate Rodeo Jones

"When your mother sends back all your invitations and your father to your sister he explains that you're tired of yourself and all of your creations: won't you come see me, Queen Jane? Won't you come see me, Queen Jane?" Bob Dylan Queen Jane, Approximately