We burn up all of our passions & hot dreams until we are left with only ashes.
Forgotten skies of yesterdays feeling, I've forgotten the feeling.
To see is to be awake, but, when asleep we see the raw nature of what defines us come to be.
Where are those rooms of radiant white, walls patched with sunlight beaming in from an open window.
Where is that bed that smells of fresh linen, left with the lingering scent of her.
Where is the smell of sex, flooding my nostrils, uninterrupted by the overpowering odor of half drank bottles of booze left open all night.
Most of all, where is the word. The word found to describe the thought, the emotion, the idea, the mood.
Escaping me, all of this has coalesced until I feel near the brink of implosion.
And when I do, when this occurs, I send forth beams of light & plumes of smoke towering high above all of us in this room & for a moment, we understand, understand what it is to be someone else.
What it is to breath the way they do.
Hear the way they do.
See the way they do.
And when this is over, what are we left with?
Nothing.
We forget & return to ourselves.
Return to live, return to lie.