Dreams that lie are bizarre sadists. 

I dream of pillows when I listen to music and I want to fall asleep to more than piano and rain. 

Never let one blink of a tired eye be wasted on a dream you know will die.

The only love I’ll ever know is one that stands side by side with abuse.  

I rarely look within, I thought the beauty of the world outweighed whoever I was.

But I’m afraid to think of being a thing of ‘beauty’ for I don’t want to be a narcissist.

It’s been some years, some months since I thought I was really beautiful. 

I realise now that I struggle to even accept the notion of beauty and my name beside it.

I know all beauty dies away that’s why I look towards the sky whose colours mirror my soul. 

You find that if you learn to accept your dreams, you sleep a little better. 

And learn to accept the pain of a love of memories past, loving it till death do us part. 

And really ask what that cliché ‘live each day like your last’ meant & why they say it.

I could die any day, and I don’t know if I’ll really see my life flashing before my eyes.

Another cliché that when I think about it seems to conjure up more questions than actions.  

In order to be beautiful you must be happy, for what you feel transcends what they see. 

So in a way, maybe these bizarre dreams are not as as bad as they seem.

There are days in which the hellish fantasies of my nightmares come to reality inside.

Like a knife it cuts open all those bonds you formed to protect yourself by imprisoning your insecurities. 

But they all must be broken and the sharp sensation of pain is meant to remind us that life meets death.

If my beginning has an end, then my dreams must only end with each waking day. 

How do I know that I am not living a dream right now? If my words exist in one world, they must have died in another. 

As pain cannot exist without pleasure, nor beauty with age, I try to accept that as hope exists, life isn’t sadistic.

Even if I am to suffer I will be at peace, for peace itself cannot exist without chaos or the crumbling of the sky. 

Suffering cannot exist without reward…the promise that I will escape living and loving all these dreams and simply be in heaven.