How many of us are slaves to our dreams? Even when things seem to be moving forward and firing on all cylinders we can find ourselves trapped in the past or beholden to an unrealistic standard. The grass is always greener and even when content we can find ourselves treading water mentally. Forging the rivers of these dead dreams isn't always the safest thing we can do as we try to work on ourselves.
Nether
Dream state with clawed teeth
Deep tethers beneath
Fingernails chipped by high heat
Blisters at light speed
Tearing through the nether
With an eyeful in each arm
Rummaging through images
Still incomplete, I come undone
Outward facing, despair outpacing
Treading undertow swimming in place
Events displacing, tired of replacing
The fragile parts of this mental state
Contents settling, stillness besetting
Needing help with my resetting
Holding on to false hope regretting
How I was left disarmed and empty
Stone worth more than just romancing
Somehow this heart can't start forgetting
Spark malformed in starts and stops
Ignition transitioned to cold fusion source
Too timid to approach these portals
Critical mass a stillborn dream
Open hostility to gods artificial
True fealty sworn only to that singular flame
Sacrificial singularity
Nightly laying out this virtual reality
Altars of repeated self-defeat
Carving vistas into which I can retreat
Sailing West with cold hands wrapped
Into the eye of a storm I made myself
Death alive with quite a pulse
A ferry toll paid without a cost
Cords laid along the ocean floor
A bed of hydro-thermal flora
Communications spilled like oil
High pressure drilled into this core
Digital remorse
A love that makes this worse
Self-sustaining nuclear delusions
Still periodically atomic
Visual divorce
A visceral renewal of hope
Vaporizing the question
To find myself inquiring alone
Switching servers to read-only
Cycling solo in binaries of zero sum
Locked in a feedback loop of lonely
Some games are lost if only one
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