A Dream of a GirlI’ve been making myself a dream of a girl A jewel of the night, or maybe a pearlA Dream of a Girl
Her movements are flawless, her grace absolute She makes her own music on reed and the flute
Her garments are made of the purest black night Yet even with them she radiates light
Fall leafs is the hue of her glossy smooth hair And her laughter is sweet, unmarred by a care
Her vision be broad, expansive as sky And befitting her piercing sapphire eye
Her point’s are insightful and never fall flat And her speech is ingenious and keen as a cat
A
Sweet DreamsSweet Dreams an increasingly short story by Me I know this is a dream. What else could it be? All I can see is a landscape that can only be described as shallow. It’s like a dream stretched over insanity until it completely covers it up. But anyone can see the holes where the madness seeps through. There are things all around me, like lumps of flesh squeezed into a skin; from the anguish I can see on its face, it must be too large for the membrane of skin it was pressed into. It’s nauseating. Nauseating, but not exactly what was scaring me. What really made me nervous was that I’ve never realized I was in a drSweet Dreams
In case anyone thinks I'm dead, I'll pos
Sarcastic
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I sat down to write, wishing the words would come. Then they did, faster and harsher than any tears and suddenly, I found I wished they had not come at all.
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