Dreams:
Part 1
Every explicit second,
each fragment of time,
every memory,
its placement in our minds pushes us differently swaying our subconscious.
Love, respect, duty, honor, each aspect is reflected in our choices.
With each instance a small chance,
a break if you will,
fragmenting a moment further fracturing our lives in adjacent directions.
A single drop of rain may topple the roof of an aging farm house; something similar occurring in me.
Ripped in half by a single choice, what do I choose?
What is the jelly to my peanut butter? Do I turn to peach preserves, do I choose to invoke a deep southern comfort of both false pleasantries and memories of home?
Or, do I look further west? Do I Indulge in a sweet, sweet, grape or strawberry jam?
I stand here staring, between the aisles with a fist full of quarters, and then she comes.
Walking down the aisle, a quick-sure stride, past me and my creeping anxieties to a mason jar filled with yellow fruit, pineapple huh?
I stare a bit longer than I should have, and as she drops the object into her hand basket she walks away.
She turns to look at me for an instant, we lock eyes.
I scramble for that final yellow filled jar, narrowly escaping the clutches of an elderly woman and her fondness of yellow fruit.
Clutching the yellow, I peak around corners the lines of the aisles slowly blur and I only see her.
A subtle beauty composed of gentle lines and curves, pursed lips and dark eye-brows. She walks out of sight once more, I pursue.
Finally, the moment comes, I meet her at the end of the aisle as she turns to face me.
She blinks and as she opens her eyes again a deep black seeps in, consuming all tenderness, and the void stares back.
I step back and the air is a tarnished yellow,
I drop the jar,
looking down now toward my feet I feel a deep black consuming me too.
I look back up now and she stares at me gently.
A haunting darkness,
shadows creeping out from their insides,
pulling,
tearing everything away.
Where am I? What is this? Where is the world?
Panic follows, but now even my lungs begin filling with a black soot,
a suffocating feeling eating me.
Like rats in the flood, I too, struggling to swim inside something inescapable, I reach out into the nothingness.
Grasping and Gasping; a hand pulls me, and I wake up.
