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A numb
Overtakes the senses
I am awake
Within my sleeping self

Even in slumber
The brain is active.
I am never free.

I am never free.

         Let me guide you through the garden of my thoughts.  Where we tilled the land.  Where you planted the seed of hope.  Where you reaped the benefits as the flowers wilted.  Let me guide you.

The ground has become dry.
I’ve run out of tears to shed.

         “I trusted you.” I said, observing the withered plot where our love once grew.  Your face looked vaguely of remorse.  But not enough.  “Why couldn’t you have just been honest with me?”  No response.  “You’re the reason people become callous, you know?  You take too much and give too little.”
         She thought for a moment.  A single tear lingered in her eye, then dropped heavy to the ground.  It soaked the dirt, and where it had, a spot of green pushed up to greet the sun.

“I’m sorry.”

And the flower bloomed.

And I awoke.
And nothing changed.
And I am never free.
4.11.13
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November 10, 2013
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