This one was eerie.

I came to a clearing in my dream and it was a marshy pond, but almost in some kind of a crater. I had to cross the pond without getting too wet and carrying this awkward knapsack. Others crossed it before me and I was going to take their same route. But instead I deviated off to the right because the water looked less murky and more shallow. Yet, I faced pirates, my bag ripped, and in the end I was tripping over a decaying skeleton in the marsh. I woke up sweating, thinking I had to bury the skeleton outside the pond, until I realized I was already awake.

Somebody get me Nyquil, I'm done with dreaming.

BROKE.

I'll hang on, everyone will free fall.
Arms wide and laughing.
Whipping winds and messy hair.

It may ache to cling.
But they will shatter on impact
Tiny pieces everywhere.
And my muscles will gain strength.
I'll look down for the graveyard
And see a mosaic.

November Now.

Well here I am again, stuck in my personal
Robert Frost poem.

Leaves blow on both paths and sharp twigs and branches poke through,
snap. and. crackle.
It's gray out and my
purple scarf smells like my honey granola bar.
My sneakers dont protect from the chill
of the stone I balance on.

I'm here alone, it's what I envisioned this to be.
As things come together, I usually come apart.
But independence and silence
is what woods at dusk offer you.

So I take it in. Stride. One path is wide and familiar
flat and safe.
Another dips, rolls, narrows, and disappears around a large rock.
What's there? A field? Meadow? Rocky death ravine?
Who knows.
Or cares.

I'll hang out under rust colored dead leaves.
Surrounded by cold rocks and far away birds.
Spotlight sun will set and I will be here.
Until white-faced moon peeks through barbed branches,
And peers down at two paths
and a cold gray stone.
All alone.

Mind Trash.

I'm not afraid of looking and finding nothing.
I'm afraid of seeing everything I ever wanted,
Right. Here.

Life is beautiful.
Time is endless.
Friendships are treasures.
My thoughts are flawed.

Dear Me,
Snap out of it. You have it all right here. What more could you want? Why is it when life finally gives you everything you were looking for , you throw it all out for something completely different? Everything's perfect. But you're just waiting for the slightest crack in it to slip into...

"THE PAST IS ONLY THE FUTURE WITH THE LIGHTS ON"

i hate circles.