unbearable

Speak to me not of thy grandiose dreams,
Of thy troll-slaughter, of thy zombie death toll.
Fill not mine ears with words a-drip with fantasy.

Tell me not of futures beyond a decade and a world,
When thou art unrecognizable and bold,
And rejoicing in existences here known but vaguely.

Why dost thou envision such a lofty mirage?
Why can I not fall back and go?
Why do I cling to a hallucination of thee?

Tell me now, what thou saw'st on the street this morning,
How the scuttling clouds chilled thy soul.
Fill my head with words stuffed with normality.

Speak to me of a woman in the train
And her hair that swayed to and fro
With Medusa locks she pushed away to see

And weave a tale of nothingness to sooth and calm
My nervous mind, make it catch and slow.
Describe the tiny bird that hopped off free.

Thou dost not see the present, nor I future.
Our eyes do not meet as we well know.
I reach thru fog and darkness to clasp a hand to me
And find my emptiness and numbness only grow
When thou look'st off to whatever thou and thou alone would see.