I cling to the illusion of sleep
Clinging to the oblivion of unconscious
Only in sleep can I forget
Forget the pain and grief for you
Lost in the dreams of better times
I don't want to wake to reality
The reality of an empty world
A world where you don't exist
Only a name on a granite stone
A stone in a rock garden of granite
I want to stay in the past
A past that doesn't have blood
Blood soaking into blue bed sheets
A past that doesn't involve tissues
Damp tissues that make small mountains
I sleep, I don't see blue sheets
I don't see that maple box
You are alive in my dreams
You're not in your Sunday best
And not part of a rock garden
Author notes
Written July 13th, 2006
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wow, this is really good. i think the idea of sleep being the only solice for grief or being alone, is inteigent. i think that pain, pain can get you anywhere even in your dreams but somehow in your dreams, you can image and its real, and in dreams your away from your conctioous mind, so anything can be real. i think this poem has some personal meaning, becuase i dont get the meaning of the tissues unless you are on about crying, and then the tissues are resprenation of all the tears that have been shead. anyway i think the idea rock gardens and sunday best is really good, becase its the idea that after someone has died that is that all that left of them is a deaicated space, but that doesnt represnt them, and the idea of people being dressed for best, makes it too formaal, and saying goodbye is never formatl is something deeply personal and important for moving on.
keep up the great work.
starlockx
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