Sharing a poem from my soon to be published anthology, At Thievery End:
the portals of my mind house this dream that pigments my imagination
it is i who creates the battle as time bears no conscience
let me alone or allow me to tear down the walls protecting my sanity
mirrors hold no truths and too the sand lies thick upon the hour glass
yet it is me i look down upon from my hovering amidst the clouds of realism
i am impartial to the weight i shoulder yet the ball and chain drag deep
hold me close against your body and tear me from this nightmare
prepare me slowly
ferment my strength
and when the day comes
let me breathe like a good wine
then you and the world can only be mine