High on feelings

 

I got

too high

on feelings,

I let them

grip me tight,

holding my hand

showing ways

to new lands

where sunbeam

screams bleed

into starburst nights.

I let my thoughts climb

the ladder of light

to a place unseen by man,

and I realised

that my dreams were empty.

Not real.

Just plasticine memories

of what I wished to feel.

 

The love I held inside

was a tide that wanted

to wash upon your shore,

but the plasticine moulded

cliffsides stopped

any dreams from

touching the sand,

and dreams subside

when the lightness of a hand

is not the lighthouse of hope

that I once held it for.

 

I got so

high on a dream

that I stopped breathing.

I just held every feeling inside,

and let them churn through

every nerve and sinew.

Screaming.

When in truth I should have

just opened my silent waters to you.

Let my thoughts flow

like waves of truth.

 

But I knew,

as I know,

that my love

has nowhere to go.

As your tide is flowing

on another shoreline,

so, my inquisitive mind

questions,

is this just one outcome

in an ocean of storylines?

And on some beach

in a time yet defined

do the waves of love

breach the pliable walls of mine?