Terse meshes of silk. Delicate patterns of thread. Ethereal, fragile, defying existence, Like words no-one ever said.

Chimeras, deceptions, fine wrappings of mesh. Soft feelings against my flesh.

A thin, fine net, surrounding my head, made of whispers, shadows and dread.

I fall in love with every book character The ones I read about The ones I write

All of them seem so much better Than the real boys

They don’t hurt me They don’t leave me

Even the bad boys and troubled ones Give me the comfort I seek In between the lines of my books

I hold these characters dearly The ones that make me feel alive The ones that make me feel wanted

But at the end of the day When I close my book And put it away

I realize… It was all an illusion

I loved soaking in your light.

I’d bask in it’s yellow glow.

But then I turned; my ears at attention and eyes no longer fawn-hearted

the light became a prelude-

Screeching; rubber on pavement.

I could only watch

My shadow illuminated on the tarmac not by a sun but captured stone-still by headlights.

can not turn off my mind

imagined scenrios imagined feelings imagined hurt imagined love imagined pain imagined glee

can not turn off my heart

real relationships real conversations real time real faces real people real happiness

“Pick a card” She whispers in my ear I choose the fifth card “Queen of hearts”

She says as She kisses my cheek “Did I pass?” She nodd as she gives me a peck

Hypnotized by her Gorgeous brown eyes And the walks by the shore And watching the sun rise

I saw her with another She pleads with me “He was just my brother” And I agree

Till I witness That horrific scene And I feel a sort of sickness She is something of a machine

She’s a traitor And I fell for the tricks And I hate her I felt the weight of bricks

Lift off After I left It was rough But I had to get it off my chest

———— Hey hey, How’d I do? If there’s any improvement I need please tell me! Okay gn

You try to show us that we are one An earth, a community, your equal

Lie to our faces when you get hurt and stung Our untraceable dead left to flee and fall

You tell us that you want peace for us Shut us in a dark room, blind and waring

The big picture you paint still includes us Without us, the picture frame cracks Then the whole world can see you’re no leader and none of us are free

The gods scamper when she smiles. They’ve seen that shimmer in her eyes, right before she goes wild...

She used to write love letters. Sonnets of pleasure. It was a trickle of passionate sway, amidst the darkness she tucked away. For she wasn’t quite an angel, as some were prone to say...

She was more complex moments, hidden behind a twisted frame...

Origami prose became all that she wrote. She forgot what feelings felt like, when she became a ghost.

Bold, triumphant, yet always sad. She wore away colors of the rainbow, for they drove her mad. Barefooted soul, her shackles drawn...

She used to write broken vows, till the storms were gone...

-HMG

Bend me right and break me off. I'm a sympathetic fool with scoff. Romance is dead, and no love can get ahead. I'm clawed in half, and oh SO daft. ...please paint me over there in some other nightmare…

-HMG

I apologize, Who were you expecting? I believe you were expecting someone afraid, A china-doll heart, hands that are perhaps intelligent but never brave. Changeling that I am, I think I'll let you. Just for today. I think I'll let you admire me when I do the simplest things, If I'm feeling generous, I'll even let you pretend to hold onto me, And you're welcome think it's to keep me from falling. A glamor is always for a reason, Is what they told me when I danced in a ring and let the years slide away from me. If I cover myself now in the gossamer shawl of tiny beauties, You won't be any the wiser when people begin to talk, When they begin to tell stories of something fire-bright, Something that sings in their blood and forces their eyes to look for miracles. You won't know it's me until you find that you cannot sleep, For staring at the stars. Until you've gone out without your shoes to breathe in the perfume of violets, And wonder if that sometime love of yours has changed her ways, You'll probably think there's something in the water. But one evening, you'll closee your eyes and all you'll be able to hear is the murmur of the wind in the cedars on the first day you ever really felt alive, And, too late, you will finally see me.

the illusion hopeless possession captured experience leaving these visions symbols walk and breath the quality of life will rust tonight their bodies poured out over the the fire of the thing we titled Living the illusion the burning judge passion for the eve crackling confessions silently meeting fools another word will always breed dissonance the illusion the dull complacency the same conclusive answer this world, an unusual phenomenon the abyss we inhabit spiraling as we embrace the void devoid of inhibition

the illusion

will we ever awake?