I’d rather be unhappy than mislead
I gather these feelings like lost objects and cling to them
These are real, not the painted smiling eyes
These feelings bring tension to my eyes
Producing rivulets, tangling themselves in the apples of my cheeks
Flushed and hot from the steam of opalescent understanding
Tethering and staking, like helium filled emotion
Not to leave to float into the atmosphere, to be lost and forgotten
Like days that end in nothing, spanning years into indifference
I would rather cry out this pain then masquerade in false joy
The weather is a mirror of my face
Pale Grey, with no chance of sun
Welcome to the April showers of my life
The tide is rising and the season is stuck
Like a record, playing the same thing
Hiccuping shows only the pitiful simplicity
The song of money, love and self-contempt
Obnoxious, insidious and derelict
I can’t change the tune I dance to
Every time the skies seem to brighten
A raindrop splatters itself in my path
Keeping the pace of my new tragedy
The foreshadowing of impending doom
Likely to strike like lightning
Lightening would be a much welcome change
Like a phoenix I dream to arrive from the ashes
Shake off the things that hold me
Start new, fresh, like in a dream
A dream I don’t have to wake from
A dream that I don’t wake sweating
Drenched in my own blanket of fear
Tied close to my throat
Choking and gasping, then realizing that I wasn’t asleep
A cry prescribed, to relieve the stress
A cry that I beg from my eyes
A cry that leaves you spent
So that you sleep so hard that the reality holds back
And keeps it’s frigid fingers from your unconscious body
Where dreams are forbidden
A restricted area for replenishing
A dream that I would take
But, I would rather be unhappy than mislead.
And dreams are the most misleading things of all

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