The Confessions of a 90's Kid

Lucid Be

I am always most creative right before I

Fall asleep, and I've always wondered if I could make the graves of History

Turn if I had a rope kissing

Me on my neck, right on the

Break into something new, a dream-

Scape where, in the present, nothing ever stays the

Same. A fantasy where I can see

Across the hollow sea to the next light, next home. Guiding me

Onto the

Next safe stepping stone. Until I reach the

Unsure, proverbial, or dead wooded, greener grass. All the advice?

It's nice. But

Grass isn't as big as a tree,

Or all the trees, which continue to

Grow, and ignore the pains, spread wider,

And deeper,

If not higher

Yet, you can only hope growth, it can't be

Control-led you can be, until you're sweaty, and afraid, and sat up in your death bed, wait,

I'm at the top of the tree.