Welcome to Gaia! ::

what I call my dreams

do not belong to me.

they are no one's

everyone's

their own

and whichever it is,

still the final meaning

is that the dreams are not my dreams;

a strange truth -

or falsehood -

that I and I alone, it seems, prefer

to more concrete realities.

a sizzling synapse?

a spark sailing through a shattered nerve?

what does it matter why these figments come to be?

electricity is no more mine than the images it happens to create.

it does not matter which dream this dream is,

or was,

or will be.

it does not matter whether as I dream-think-speak I am falling

or flying

or calling

or crying;

it is a dream,

and I,

part flesh

part blood

part bone

part creature left alone, in the wild dreamy tangle sprung forth

from this subconscious,

am all foreign.

Wow. That was very well written. Depressing, perhaps, but very well done. I like the end when it began to subtlely rhyme and build suspense.