Air

[Sammy]

I think I live in my dream

I wonder if I ever wake

When I sleep I am at peace

but awake my mind is disturbed

There are two kinds of air

the kind that is thin

and reaches out to touch

me with icy fingers

creeping slowly over my skin

and then theres the kind

that is thick, like fog

and slimy

slipping and sliding

making my hair raise on end

Neither is pleasant,

no soft touch caressing

no gentle whisper loving

not like in my dreams

In my dreams the air

is soft, and whispers to me

it holds me and warms me

it makes me feel safe

Awake it's cold and dangerous

it chokes and strangles

it crawls and slides

secretly trying to capture me

[Roses]

Having two very distinct places of being is hard. One peaceful and the other horrifying. Is there some way that these two places can meet in the middle and form a common ground? Does it have to be so different I wonder. I know what you mean though. xxx