orphaned dreams

"spinster of my dreams
weave me a blanket of warm half-truths
so i can hide myself,

from my cold whole flaws"

- unnamed poem in progress

the soil of my soul is fertile

dreams in seed form, cores radiating

they scream for climax, water, resolution

but it only rains at midnight

and those bastards are in bed by 6 PM sharp

these passions within me, haunt me 'till they exit

they float around, behind my eyes

whispering: "food. sustenance."

but i exclaim: "i am not your mother"

nobody ever takes orphaned dreams home

these visions spill from my finger tips,

and force custody upon my spirit

"the signature of your soul is on the birth certificate"

says the magistrate of my destiny

i am left defenseless

with dreams i cannot afford to neglect.

- dennica pearl // orphaned dreams