Dichotomy of a Dream

Night before last in my sleep
I was aware that my dream
was better than my reality
and I did not want to wake

Last night in my sleep
I was aware that my dream
scorched my soul
and I coughed myself to sense

Open Heart

There comes a coincidence
that sets the wing
lets one fly from the past
beyond the irony of imagined conceits
those inevitable vagaries of bathetic birth
that sketch us into an incandescent destiny
and expose us to those below

I am an open heart forgery
who would not trade his ennui for an other's enthusiasm
that wurthering mewling and shaking fervor
though no less a waste than my deprecations
surely we are all just metaphors sprung from the void
always becoming someone else
while maintaining our true falsehood