When Worlds Collide
In the early morning sleepless hours my bedroom is a coffin and I am haunted by sweet memories that freeze me in my slumberless tomb. I reach for a warm body that long has disappeared. Every weightless memory becomes more like a dream as my reality weighs me down deeper and deeper into the mattress. I close my eyes and have visions of another place and time. Skin on skin confessions. Lip locking lightening storms. Explosions and earthquakes and aftershocks manifesting themselves in a trembling leg. Was that real? Did I imagine it all? I open my eyes. I'm back in my room. I slide down deeper. I am buried beneath the floorboards. I cannot move. Just try to breath. Your scent floats from the pillow into my consciousness and I swear I feel your fingertips in my hair and your breath in my ear, "you are so beautiful." It's as if those words did not exist until your lips parted to speak them. Yes, some bridges will burn. I have the matches if you have the kerosene. And yes, some hearts may roll. But nothing ventured nothing gained, right? So this is what I think, maybe fate or destiny is half predetermined and half your own responsibility. Some stories need embellishing. Some stories write themselves. But this story is neither. This story already exists. This story is timeless. I may be crazy. I may be inventing worlds that don't exist anywhere but inside my own thick skull. But I've never been good with reality. Reality is suffocating and paralyzing. My mind can be a fun place to escape to. I want to cross the two. My external and internal realities. All I'm trying to do is find a happy medium. All I'm trying to do is find a home. Somewhere where I feel safe and warm and wanted. Somewhere like your arms. And in my mind, that's where I can always be. So tell me if that is where I should stay, or if we can try to make worlds collide.