The dreams I weave inside my head
Devour my days
I love you in ways
I never can standing before you.
See me behind the mirror
I quietly say
As you look at yourself
I am a doll you fashioned
With your own eyes and own hands
And I dance,
Not to the melodies you play
But to distant symphonies
Inside my head.


If I am lost
It is because the hand
That guided me knew not the paths.

If I am hopeless
It is because the well of uncertainty
Is bleak and bottomless.

If I am dreaming
It is because life is tantalizing,
Unsullied, when woven in the ether.

If I am angry
It is because my dreams
Become blighted by the tyranny of living.