It feels like drowning. A sensory bliss that never really subsides. A yearning to be awake, to live that dream I am in. In shallows of blankets and covers, calmed by the gentle breeze of your breath and caressed by the warmth of your skin. It feels like a distant voice heard in the chambers of my head, of laughter and sighs. Of whirlwinds in my mind. A ray of hope, a sliver of sunshine this rainy day.
It feels like it all makes sense right about now, on the path to the never never land. It is art. it is poetry and most of all it feels like it is true. So much that I can touch it enough to run my hands around its contours, feel it as it burns into my flesh and taste it, in dollops, as it spills onto my senses.
I shed fear and I adorn hope. I walk a path that's painted in hope and i walk with glee. I feel stronger but I feel powerless. Vulnerable to your voice, to your words, to the depths of your mind. It feels like a placebo, when my head's spinning and my body is out of place.
A terrible comfort that makes my guilty for deriving pleasure from. A horrible silence just before it's defeaned by your cheer, your pain, your world. Our world. It feels like looking into the future. It feels like I'm drowning in my sleep, drowning deep in a dream where I'm floating in your heart. It feels pure. It feels nice!
