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The Mind

Mainly a record of my more interesting dreams that I was able to remember after waking up. (Apparently my uncontrollable confessions, as well. In the form of poetry. All to the same man.)

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Priceless It sits in plain sight Hand crafted silver Seldom touched Its symbol on his neck It sits in your sight Waiting to be seen To be picked up To unlock the treasure It will stay in your sight For you hold the treasure You are its keeper Care for it well

Posted by: Questioned Sanity Sun Jun 03, 2012 @ 07:13pm

If the boy who draws
lets you look over his shoulder.
If the poet
smiles
and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song
in front of you.

Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air
and dust
that fills their lungs.

When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.

— Alaska Gold

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