walking through forests of uncertainty
dew droplets shimmering like some kind of incandescent
hidden giddiness
smoke billowing into rays of sunshine
every morning a choice,
every evening a consequence
"eat it up, it's yours"
I don't want to but I can't stop
I never wanted to start
fever dreams bleeding into a porous reality,
trusting the sponge of my senses while it's completely
saturated with tainted versions of the stories I tell myself
"just take it"
reaching out but I can't feel it
am I dreaming?
the glittery outline taunts me with its promise of something
tangible, a void-filling presence that is exactly what
everyone is telling me I want
shh, shh, shh,
sounds of the wind echo closer
or is it the ocean?
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