I dream, I'm a dreamer.  None of them the same.
they're my reality.  The colors, the words, the sounds.
Oh the sounds.  They dance in my ears and play tricks
on my thinking.  It sounds real, like a voice I once
heard.  It tells me things and I trust it.  I know its not 
the truth.  I know that it won't help me.  But I trust it; 
I, for some reason, put a trusting face to the voice.
The world is so trusting.  I can't see why, I only watch
it get lied to, hurt, shamed, insulted, and it trusts
everything.  I only trust my dreams.  That reality in my
head is the only real.  To me, but soon I'll wake to
this psychadelic, gross world.  This, which I'm
told is reality every day.  I don't want to trust.  Cuz
I don't want to hurt.  That's all that trust yields,
sadly.  The truth can be so beautiful, so kind.  Like
a pasture of wild flowers, a sunny day.  The blue skies
that stretch for forever and every, lightly splotched
with white clouds and tree tops.  The clear evenings
drip-dropped with stars and engulfed in moonlight.
The first kiss, so sudden, so sweet, soft.  The tingle
of the touch of flesh, that virgin touch of mouth to 
mouth.  Feels wrong, but oh so nice.  So true, so honest.  
The gaze from eye to eye.  This all is true.  Mostly it's 
masked in grey skies and black nights and lies.  The truth
so beautiful, the dark of night deforms it.  You can't see
it.  Impossible.  Most everyday is rainy here, most every
night pitch black.  It's no truth.  Only a fasade.  I've
seen the truth, I've heard it, and it only took me four
and a half years to understand.  It tricked me.  It
danced about, with all my thoughts.  No forked tongue 
to lash me, no evil eye to watch.  It's voice, that of love, 
for four years its spoken to me and not said what it wished.  
What it truly wanted to say.
     Finally it did.  The words dropping off the tongue like bricks,
falling at my feet hard and placed upon my head.  No sugar coats, 
or prepping thoughts.  Or am I too oblivious?  Do I lie to myself 
the truth, or what I think the truth is?  I tell myself the truth 
and I believe every word.  But it all could be a lie.
     I find myself outside.  Beneath a blooming tree, with flow'rs.  
Staring at the deep blue sky watching soft white clouds go by.  
I wake from the episode to find myself lost in the rain on a 
Saturday night, with one name on my tongue and apology on my mind.  
I stare off into the water wall, and drown inside of a puddle, fallen 
into it by mere chance.  And can't find an exit door.  Bubbles all 
around and its her face I see staring back at me.