A wave washes over me
My field of existence rocked
The plane in which I live upon
a catalyst of sorts
My heartbeat slows
as I fade away
drifting from reality
Into my mind, I stay
worlds form with a single thought
my tongue caught
on the snags of beautiful words lost
somewhere in my head
will I remember, or forget?
I dream in the day
and wander the fields of contemplation at night
I never sleep because
in my drifting I worry what will find me
My creations come alive,
crackling sounds of life, heard in the midnight
what am I to be?
a creator who hides from her creations?
Do I leave these words to rot?
instead of giving them homes on my pages
because I’m afraid
of what I’ll see
when all the beautiful words
turn into broken things?