As I shut my eyes, the world drops dead.
Images play live stream from my mind,
Bashing images against my eyelids.
These images scream memories.
Memory is like an abstract painting.
It does not present things as they are,
but only how they feel.
My memories are like walking on hot coal.
Like smoke from an unseen fire,
You see the sun drowning in its’ sleep.
It fears the ocean,
And it’s blue green purple waves of shore.
I shut my eyes so I can see.
See the reality that is beyond me.
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