Dreams, But Mostly Reality (A collection of poetry)

Maybe one day we'll see

That the water

                  Is deeper

                          Than the dreams.

We see over the sea of sheets,

Where we swim in our own tears and burn in the heat of our own lies.

With the

               Everlasting guilt

                                         Behind us.

As if we've never had a dream, that's lived infront of our own eyes.

And under our soft pillows.

As if we've had tears & pain

Bottled?

So we dream.

Nothing more.

                       Or less.

                                    Or at all.