Dreams.

Dream. Dream and fall, they say.

Go. Run as hard as you can. - the voices shout.

Sprint. Sprint towards that empty void. Fall. And fall again. Unrepeated, uncontested. Hurt. Hurt yourself, and make mistakes. Scream. Scream to a thousands stars.

Oh, how they come and go. How they flicker low. The scent; the scent is sown. Sown in the layers that divide the wind that caresses your hair, and the emptiness of the deepest sky.

Without hesitation, I jump. It calls, again. Uncontested. Again. The singular voice doesn't come from deep down, but within. Just like those flickers, it lingers in your eyes, as the voice lingers on your memory. A memory as dark, opaque and sticky as raw liquid petrol.

It burns. It burns blindingly bright. Oh, and how you do, darling, shine bright. Brighter than the flames that consume me. Higher than those stars that watch me light up the ground.

Look. Look at how they stare. They listen closely now. They watch, as I fall, unmistakably away from your grasp. Slipping from my tearing. Always melting through your hands.

And then, I see it. I see it, again. The cat. His eyes. The deer. Her horns. The bridges and benches. The street lights, and their breathing. I can even listen to their heartbeats. It plays along with my unapparent madness and disconnection from human life.

The sea, It calls to me. To watch it suffer. In agony. One similar to mine. Soft and welcoming. Dark, and uncharted. Oh, how it calls to me. I have used her, and she uses me. The foam. Unrepeated. Unduplicable every soft hit against the sand.

I am broken. Broken I say. And nobody believes me. But it hurts. It cuts. It cuts from within. Just like those horns. Just like those eyes. The street lights, they mislead me away. The bridges and benches torture me every night. 

And I fall. I fall for it every time. 

And you. You are the worst of them all. With your words, you trick me again. They sting. Your voice stings. It stings in my throat. Oh it flows through it. The smoke. Tremble, it makes it. My voice. 

Oh, here I lay. Broken and in dismay. Sweating and awake. I have fallen. Fallen in this sheet of paper. Oh the words, how they hurt. 

Oh how I fall. Fall for it every time.

Oh how I dream. Dream of it every night.

-the owl;