It’s like my whole life has been a dream
until now.
In one unassuming moment,
I kicked over an invisible domino
and set a whole new world in motion.
A spiritual precipitation.
But part of me is afraid
that I’m really just going insane.
And another small part of me
thinks I’m just being vain.
Still, most of me is
unconcerned
with giving this a name.
For better or for worse,
my senses are awakening.
I’m on fire!
Better stop-drop-and-roll
before this muse
loses control
and burns me to a
delectable crisp.
I’m too young
to go out like this.
Like a yellow star
suddenly turned blue,
falling fast,
making dreams come true.
All except my own.
Cuz it’s too hard to see
with a blazing sun
inside of me.
Right behind my eyes
burning through my brain.
I’m too sizzling
to be sane.
Tired and
(poetically)
uninspired.
Waiting and
perpetually
debating.
Once you have it all,
all you can do is wonder
what you have it for.
And just like that,
you’ve reached the breaking point
of the American Dream.
Dreaming of
fragmented dreams
where the premises
rip at the seams
leaving trenches of doubt
and no way out
from the splintered
sunlight’s gleam.
