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it would happen to me most often as a child when sleeping over my grandparents' house in the red room,   as my sleeping and waking minds met, I knew myself to be elsewhere--
Have you ever been so scared that you looked deep into your past and saw the things which couldn’t last as reality slips your grasp.
1.     it burns—my shadow feedingit the popcorncelling as I sleep     to keep italive,    
Time is stopping as each thought is threaded from its undertone and I wonder why it has brought me here,  standing alone in a pool of surreal rain and lessons I continue to seek. 
I saw you there, My loyal guide, A man of raven hair and blue eyes, Quite tall in stature, With cream skin, You took my hand, Then we began, We walked along an empty field, 
Deep in the darkness, The goo falls on down, Right from the ceiling, Onto the ground, Then there before me, Lies my own head, That sings to me songs, That fill me with dread,
There are no big memories, Because I can't exist in the small. Im tired of walking in between the two, Trying not to fall,   I can walk a million miles in an inch, Because my world is so small,
There’s an old saying - Greek or Roman I can’t remember - It says that when you meet your beloved, Flowers start to blossom on your soul, That those who love move through life as walking gardens.  
The traveler stopped for restthe sky a silver hue,the sun setting in the westthe waters, a dark blue.
Tick tick tick A silent wish One owned by quietness Tock tock tock
you'll never understand what makes me tick. you'll try an beg and ask questions that you think are terribly clever.
    I am an immortal queen 
Cold and dry autumn air, welcome the pain in my head. Dour nymph takes me and tempts me to get closer, offset outflows, feeling behind my eyes. 
Of the train according to the front, after the order of 1000 suns cry eyeball - can all combustion terrace.
It is always darkest before the dawn In a world where coffee cups cast rays of light And the sun and the moon cast shadows into the morning   The trials of time know no lies
She ran. Past the creaky rocking chair and the old tin can, Through the mahogany door and into the wrinkled man. She jumped the white picket fence just to see.
The rain is pouring and my heart is drowning But it struggles and fights to learn to swim; Bending its shape to its wet surroundings It reaches an isolated shore, And once again it morphs to be able to breathe,
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