Absurd Chaos

Vivid images of a faded dream A ruin of nothing The taste of dust and happiness in the air A ruin of everything The smell of you on my hands Droplets of sweet blood left in my wake A shattered glass was all it took To exile my love away A shattered glass that was once a depiction A tangible illusion left to decay The sound of sour laughter and a thought Why is it, that after all this time This does not Hurt.

Velvet skies and purple dreams. We all dream; even if we don’t remember, we all do. It’s our internal language, a language that precedes all languages, an ancient form of communication, the oldest miscommunication. It’s inherent, it’s physical, it’s visceral. It’s ours and it’s us. The purest form of an “I”. Yet, we let a trivial and empty thing called “practical life” get in the way of Nature’s monologue.