Vintage

I haven't had a lot to say here lately because I've been pouring my creative energy into the next great American novel. Just wait. I'm already planning what to wear on my book tour. Anyway, I was reading through an old journal...in college, I used to take this book with me everywhere. Anytime someone would say something interesting, or I'd hear a quirky song lyric, or I'd be inspired to write, I'd jot things down in here. I came across an old poem that I wrote.

My disclaimer is that this poem is NOT brilliant art. It's something I wrote when my brain cells were in serious hibernation, and I had passed through the state of Despair and right on into I Don't Care Land. It's nowhere close to being the most clever or beautiful thing I've ever written. Speaking as a critic, it's not great. But the sentiment was a good reminder for me about a road that I travelled once and that I'm not terribly inclined to travel again. It reminded me how empty I once felt...and that was bad. And while it's not good to dwell on the past, I do believe it's good to remember it so that we are not doomed to repeat it.

Awake but dreaming I lie
Lost in visions that no one sees.
Untouchable leads to unhurtable.
Awake but dreaming I cry
But dry tears can save my pride.
Kisses from ghosts don't burn.
Awake but dreaming I fly
Into arms that were never open,
And fall through a smoky embrace.
Awake but dreaming I'm tied
To the monster that I've created.
Terror feeds on a single thought
That awake but dreaming I'll die.