encoded notions

A dream is my scream.

I sit alone.
Chilled to the bone.
Stiff as stone.

The air is silent.
No one whispers in my ear.
I listen, gripped with fear.
Longing to shed a tear.

The world reflected in my eyes yields vast expanses of lifeless terrain.
Seething pain.
Frigid rain.

A shout.
A cry.
Sharp to sever the lie.
Piercing the fruitless sky.

A blanket surrounds my head.
I see red.
Put me down to bed.

All is masked from me.
Now there is endless glee.
I can be.

Paint and palette.
Brush in hand.
I fabricate the unplanned.
What I make is never bland.

Dab and dribble.
Stroke and splash.
Fibers bite and gnash, coloring the ancient ash.

My efforts slow.
The canvas-land lies drying below.
The inconsistencies begin to show.

Rocks have fractured.
The heavens crack.
Reality is what they lack.
I’m thrown back.

Gone is my shroud of eternal slumber.
Burned like lumber.
Inflowing memories beyond number.

What never was is made once more.
Life oozes from every pore.
Am I here?
Can I be sure?

I look ahead and look behind.
A dull ache grows within my mind. I know not what I am to find.

The days ahead appear quite bleak.
I am unique and choose not to speak.
Better that than to become a freak.

A scream is my dream.