Frayed Dreams

Another set of dreams,
I seamlessly spin.
With smoke, dust and smoke,
They fade into a night so grim.

I seek the light.
I chase the day.
I begin to wonder,
If I'm running or running away?

As the dust and smoke,
Start to fade away,
I live in wonder and amazement,
Are all hopes meant to fray?

The box.

Anger
Lust
Sorrow
Disgust

Castaway.
In a box
Full of your memories.

In the deep recesses
Of the attic,
They lie with the sundries.

Inexplicable.
Then why do I feel
So emotionally insane?

If I throw away
The little boxes,
Will the memories remain?

Mental Spam

Instability
Emptiness
Dark shadows

Written, unwritten verses
Spoken, unspoken words

Spam,
It feels like mental spam,
These obsessive destructive thoughts.

Dark shadows of the past
Loom in the present

You're gone.
But when I wake up every morning,
Why does this room still smell of you?

I remembered to forget the end.

The words unwritten

The words unsaid

The incomplete conversations

They come back in my head

And I find myself yearning

For the familiarity of that smoky smell

Craving for the touch

That can take me to heaven and to hell

And then the treacherous lies

Comes back to me

I see the end of the road

Through a hazy smokescreen

I fumble to collect the pieces

As they fall apart in front of me

May be I can’t remember the end

Because it wasn’t meant to be