Dreams.

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I dream every night. It’s like I don’t sleep; I’m far to busy venturing rivers and streams, painting graffiti on infinite trains.

My dreams are what dreams are made of. My mind is the money so my vacation is paid up.

Tropical paradises on every turn. I’ve never seen so many gorgeous baby blue pools with pearls twirling my world.

I can fly if I want to and explore. I’m getting good, in fact I’m better than Peter pan. Taking off is tricky but I always land.

My dreams have music so I wake up singing with love. Lyrics that no conscious mind could think of.

My dreams have more amusing amusement parks than Californi and Dubai put together. My subconscious really got her shit together.

I have nightmares worst than Steven kings, but I’ve been into horror flicks since I was a kid.

But this is real time 3d and if it’s too deep I wake up n have some tea.

I dream.

Every.

Single.

Night.

I get lost in pitch black in my bed on a trip LSD couldn’t bring to light.

I get to live past futures; in surreal movements, clearer than glass to my mind when it computes it.

But my minds far more complex. More convex it sees more than I can comprehend.

How many times I saw the end or woke up to a new beginning, open my eyes and the rooms spinning,

Damn I’m dizzy that was trippy.

What were those lyrics I heard angels signings?

I turn the light on.

I got the light, write before it’s gone.

Pick up a pen and write down this midnight song.

 

-Nina

 

4 thoughts on “Dreams.”

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