Perceptions

My poems are not real

     just pen marks on my palms

     glistening lips searching for another

     deep pools of turquoise eyes

     crescents of my soul

My poems are not real

     floating imperfections in halos

     tinges of colors mixed with lightning

     carved thoughts and trembling hands

     love within heartstrings

My poems are not real

     stairs of tumbling rapids

     racing without destination

     brutal partings and warm embraces

     forced tears and black tunnels

My poems are not real

     endless roads paved in water

     whirlpools of striking pain

     grains of sand on beaches

     skipped stones without weight.

My poems are not real

     swimming in wide motions

     empty train tracks

     poetry unveils my darkness

     hiding behind walls

My poems are not real

     dangling thoughts on paper

     doorway to my existence

     beckoning for you to enter

     to my world of unreality.