At the brink of your sleepless nights, you reach a thought that is real, but has a touch of surreal to it. You can’t dismiss it, because it is a lure. It wants you to touch it, feel it, smell it. It wants you to sit with it and see it through.
But, you know if you do, you will go down a spiral. A spiral that is colorful and bright but so dark in its core that you are scared.
It’s not just in form that you see its beauty. It just seems so right. It’s so much like something that can happen to you, that it perfectly fits within.
You are afraid of it, that’s why it makes sense. You are so scared that it shouldn’t happen to you, that it makes perfect sense for it to work its way in your reality. A negative world that seems just right for you.
What if it is really just a nightmare? Your own beautiful, little nightmare, that you have nourished, caressed and nurtured. Like you need it to survive. Nothing can be so necessary. Then, how can it be true?
How could you believe it to be true? – Even if it seemed real. Don’t you say that to your nightmares? How about trying that out with this gorgeous twine of yellow, orange, green, blue, and red? You are not real, you pretty thing, for I am now awake.
Will it then shoo away, when you wake up? Should you not do the honors yourself – laugh it out when the sleeplessness you sleep in, is over?
~ ~ ~
Now, if only, it were that easy, poetic and/or romantic.