WALKING THROUGH MY MIND

When I am walking through my mind, I am never certain what I will find. All my dreams I try to log. But they disappear in a fog.

Energy as memories hit me like the pebbles of a windstorm, some blowing safely past, some hitting me with a biting blast, some so small any one is hard to grasp.

Variety, anxiety, and joy, some seem real, some are surreal, some are moving, some I cannot feel.

I have no psychic knife to solve these problems with an unexpected and simple method; I reach but I do not grasp.

Some thoughts I fight, some I cringe from in fright, where are the boundaries, where I can escape by flight.

Reality would seem the answer, yet it is the danger zone, for many lies are cradled in a sincerity tone, the masks of the speakers belie, a false message, which makes you cry, when you awake to the lie, and want to die.

Who loves you, who can you trust, a level of self-worth is a must.