Familiar Fantasy

Closed eyed, serene. Forgetting. Emptying the toxins in which you used to cure me of - a bloodstream poured into me from your lips. A familiar pressure; a failed fantasy. In sleep is the only space I know you now. I fear of waking, to find lone flesh limp and cold beneath open ceilings, curled upon molded fabric - all I can do is cry for the undead that stir within me. A cacophony of families un-manifested.

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Soul to soul. Spirit to body, you echo within my bones, a song of unspoken moans.

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The escapism created to cope with my unrelenting reality. A mind-space of eternal peace and euphoria. Swept away with love, the idea of a home within another. A seed planted in a field that died in storm. The uncontrollable end.