My mind wanders elsewhere, at times.
Drifting out to milky skies.

And the arguments against insanity fall through with a soft, shurring sound.

Blast off.
Up into that dark abyss.
Where the lights, they drift.
Ideas streaming in and out of consciousness.
Don’t sleep, don’t eat, reach for the stars.
Reach girl.

While I drift, it shivers in my skin.
The cold hook of reality, trying to reel me in.
Tearing up the thin curtain.
That drapes between my psyche and realism.

Descending from my dark, high, secret space.
It takes some time.

A soft, shurring sound.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s