Not Quite Alone.
#SharedDestinies
I traipse through
A sea of emerald hands
Brushing my ankles
As I pass.
The blades of grass
Are not frantic,
Not clutching
Or grasping.
Instead, their touches
Whisper reverently across my skin
Like I am a most sacred thing.
I am not permitted to feel sacred
Anywhere but in my dreams.
I glance up from my adoring fans
To see a figure walking ahead of me.
Odd.
I'm usually alone in this dream.
I stare at blonde curls escaping
The powder blue bonnet
In front of me.
Our hands are entwined
As they tug me along,
Their laughter tinkling like
A choir of glass bells.
Glancing behind me,
I can only see the arm
Linked through my own.
The fading black line
Tattoo sleeve I spy
Inspires more questions than answers.
This arm is strong,
Steady,
Sure.
I am swept up
Into the gaiety of
My two stranger companions,
Who have begun to feel more like
Family in the brief seconds of
Existence within my dream.
I feel holy.
Revered.
Sacred.
###
I awake in a darkened street;
Nondescript streetlamps
Flicker ominously
As I feel a sense of dread overtake me.
I know with sudden certainty
That I must begin to run.
That I am being chased,
And cannot under any circumstance
Be caught.
Adrenaline pumps through
My veins
As my heart hammers within
My tightening chest.
I weave skillfully through blurring
Streets and alleys,
Distressed at the intensifying feeling
That my efforts are for naught.
My legs tire and ache,
Disobeying my desperate urges
To continue.
I am stopped in my tracks
By a dead end.
I've messed this up again.
I never win.
No matter how hard I...
I traipse through
A sea of emerald hands
Brushing my ankles
As I pass.
The blades of grass
Are not frantic,
Not clutching
Or grasping.
Instead, their touches
Whisper reverently across my skin
Like I am a most sacred thing.
I am not permitted to feel sacred
Anywhere but in my dreams.
I glance up from my adoring fans
To see a figure walking ahead of me.
Odd.
I'm usually alone in this dream.
I stare at blonde curls escaping
The powder blue bonnet
In front of me.
Our hands are entwined
As they tug me along,
Their laughter tinkling like
A choir of glass bells.
Glancing behind me,
I can only see the arm
Linked through my own.
The fading black line
Tattoo sleeve I spy
Inspires more questions than answers.
This arm is strong,
Steady,
Sure.
I am swept up
Into the gaiety of
My two stranger companions,
Who have begun to feel more like
Family in the brief seconds of
Existence within my dream.
I feel holy.
Revered.
Sacred.
###
I awake in a darkened street;
Nondescript streetlamps
Flicker ominously
As I feel a sense of dread overtake me.
I know with sudden certainty
That I must begin to run.
That I am being chased,
And cannot under any circumstance
Be caught.
Adrenaline pumps through
My veins
As my heart hammers within
My tightening chest.
I weave skillfully through blurring
Streets and alleys,
Distressed at the intensifying feeling
That my efforts are for naught.
My legs tire and ache,
Disobeying my desperate urges
To continue.
I am stopped in my tracks
By a dead end.
I've messed this up again.
I never win.
No matter how hard I...