I love the breeze...

I sit on the edge of the forest and the waterfall and write this. I traveled far tonight. I sat in the forest and drank from the sea. I drank for ages upon years and all at once I was pulled from the shore and deep into the forest. I sat and waited, reaching and outstrected my arms to the glassy vial that held the ocean. Yearning for it's hydration. A soft hum at first. Breaking the silence into a rythym coming from the trees. I ate the leaves of the trees and hoped for their knowledge to pass from them to me and then into my soul thiers. I wanted to merge with the wind and be carried through the leaves. I love the breeze but my mouth is so parched.

A tree in the woods...

The tree. The one I see in my dreams. I find myself thinking of it when I'm awake. I think back to my visions and feel nostalgic. It's like it has been years. At night I thrive on it's energy but during all daylight hours I am drying up inside. We spent so much time and I became who I am by it. I would soak up it's energy and it would feed into me. I need that back. Day and night...

A tree in the woods

I go to sleep most nights and wake up in another world. My dreams. A forest, the landscape. I walk the usual path and end up in the heart of the forest. The heart of the forest is an old and tall tree in the direct center. I sit under that tree for the remainder of my dream. Deep in thought. I wake up the next morning and feel invigorated but filled with entirely new questions.

Hope they don't drown me...

I miss the destruction. I used to thrive on the obliteration of everything around me. I have that same old feeling. The yearning for destruction. I've always been a mess and right at the moment where I think I might clean up I start to get dirt on my clothes. I guess I should face the facts. I can't keep a grasp on my ever changing reality. I put on the face of composure and act like I understand every thought that I would think. It seems I've become more and more complexed by them lately. I can't label each individual thing I think as thoughts. They always seem to morph and evolve inside of me and then I become troubled by them. These thoughts are what was leading me to destruction. What I thought was surpressed is now breaking above the water line. Hope they don't drown me.

a room outside...

I can feel my focus shift. My head is throbbing and all I can do is grasp around in the smoke and fog. I'm in a room...that much I know, but the size of the room is beyond my perception. I've been here before. Walking in this room but it is different somehow. Maybe it is the fog and smoke. It clouds my vision but there is much more to it than that. I have tried to find the walls with hopes to find a door but no matter how far I walk, none are found. Maybe I'm outside...

I used to

I used to do a lot of things. I used to dance in the middle of the forest. Under the moonlight I would dance to the sound of the leaves and the wind. The moon was my disco ball and I was the waves moving with it. I used to swim in the ocean. I would dive twenty thousand leagues under the sea and open my mouth and let the water rush in and flood my body. I would always wake up the next morning on the shore or with my face down in a pile of leaves. I used to be destructive and my world was almost destroyed by my path.

So far So close...

There's thousands of miles between you and I but all the while I can see you on the other side of the street. Staring at my bedroom window, wishing and hoping I'd come outside, but I never will. I will always leave you out in the cold and I won't give you an umbrella when it rains. The drops fall close to your face. I've counted them. I watch them wash you away.