My dreams haunt me like a conspicuous man on a dark and deserted road.
My subconscious deems me worthy enough to see my truth.
However, my mind knows that it is more than I can handle.
They find comfort in dwindling the images down to absurd dreams.
Leaving the meaning yet but found.
I want to devour the truth whole.
I have yet to see that the truth is the sun and it will burn right through me.
The truth will leave me scarred, unable to be recognized. Leaving me as nothing more than ashes in the tray.
