All Things Are From Ourselves

No one is beta by choice
Some are alpha by chance;

All we need sometimes
Is someone to save us
From the world and
From ourselves:

All things are from ourselves.

Not Dreaming Anymore

Sometimes fantasy conflates
With reality
Through dreams

You have her in your arms
Then you open your eyes
And she’s gone

She was there waiting
For you to come with the car
But when you’re there she’s not anymore

When you next see her
She’s in someone else’s arms
Waiting for someone else’s car

All that’s left to twirl
Is your notion of reality
And not her tender curls

All because you are
Not dreaming anymore.