Hope and fear

Crazy people float through my dreams,
Speaking with shadowy language
Of thoughts I cannot understand,
Where hope exists beyond
Unspoken fears.

I dream of floating a lot;
Walking along the street
I suddenly find myself falling
As the ground disappears
Beneath my feet,
Then I am drifting
Over fields,
Over forests,
Over people’s heads.
Nobody looks up,
But I can hear them talking,
As their words rise to meet me,
Inescapable sounds
Of the unconscious.

Then I am running,
Hunted and haunted,
Through ragged trees
That reach out to touch
My sensitive skin,
Grabbing at my arms,
Repeating my name
With laughter.

When I open my eyes
The sky is a kaleidoscope of colours,
Swirling blues and purples
In turmoil outside my window.
Then I see the artist
Painting my portrait,
Delicate features of beauty
With sensual lips.
He dips his brush
Then splashes scarlet
Across those lips,
The cheekbones burn
Under eyes of icy blue,
Vacant and staring
At my portrait.


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