Brain-dead responses

 Brain-dead responses

~Miss A.

Moving on to shut the eyes, waiting for you to close the distance,

They say to think of postive things before going to bed, 

So I try to hold the image of your face, to hide it like a good story in my memories,

And I'm brain-dead, nothing exists, no thoughts, no melodies, just you.

Stagnant in my vision as a reason to keep on living, a reason to cherish life,

And suddenly I find myself those green forests, hugged by mist, and lakes

Potentially cold, and forst biting, but burning in my breath like a born fire.

But I feel something irritating, an anxiety, and I look at my palms, shaking, 

What is that I am missing, for something was there which I was holding with my all,

This place seems like paradise, but instict tells me the moss would eat me up,

The strong smell of rotting wood, feels as fresh as the lemon jest, even as I lay down, trying to connect to the soil, I can't rest.

What is it, what is it, spins my head, what, where, who; and I feel the flood hit my face, as I wake up,

To your gentle forehead kiss, an announcement that you're right by me now,

And I laugh shaking, as I realise what my brain-dead responses felt missing in my paradise, oh dark lord, keep me.