It's late, I should be contemplating sleeping. I would like to be able to sleep, but sleep is not that easy for me. Sleep is a competitive sport and I always lose.
If I do manage to sleep, the nightmares come. They terrify me.
I'm an adult, nightmares should not be this painful.
It's the stress.
Torn obligations, warring with pristine dreams.
Things I want, things I dream, things I long to be, in total opposition to the things, I must be.
An effigy of myself, burning endlessly.
Too warn down to believe.
Refuge is what I long for.
Refuge... such a foreign word,
refuge is not in my lexicon.
No safe haven for me.
Struggle on, forge ahead, be it all, believe again.
How I wish I could.
Love,
Lolita Lilyflower
I miss my faeries.
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