You're almost like lucid dreams
So long as you're on my mind
I like to think I'm awake
But it's never quite as it seems
When I'm hearing deaf, seeing blind
All I once knew is fake
I toss and turn, chasing light beams
Though their tails I only ever find
At the brink of daybreak.
YOU ARE READING
Tacenda
PoetryTacenda (n.) Things better off left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence - "These are not things I never said They're the ones I wish I'd kept in Locked them in a bottle instead and bore all the pain within."
