I want to know why
but I'm too tired to ask
for answers that never come
when the stories I tell myself
never seem to shut up

I am scared when bitterness
does not emerge
that this is no great state of evolution
but only the growing comfort
I've found with disappointment

I want to turn back the clock
but I don't belong to time
and somewhere in the ghost realms
something else has slipped
over through the other side

and I am learning now

that dreams can only 

live their lives
in the shadows of the light
when I have closed my eyes