I often wonder if I could see her out of all the windows at once.
But, turn as fast as I can, I can only see out of one at one time.
And though I always see her, she may be able to creep faster than I can turn!
I have watched her sometimes away off in the open country, creeping as fast as a cloud shadow in a high wind…
I don’t like to look out of the windows even–there are so many of those creeping women, and they creep so fast.
I wonder if they all come out of that wallpaper as I did?
Sometimes, I wonder too much…if I wonder too much. Live life within a dream. Or, at least, a daydream.
How lucky am I? To look up, as well as, down.
As if my grievance with nature is that of anxious inspiration.
As if these walks were cheap snippets of temptation.
“You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.”
― Edgar Allan Poe
TheCertifiablyTRUERavingsOfASectionedPhilosopher: Don't be afraid to think you might be a little 'crazy'. Who isn't? Check out some of my visualized poems here: https://www.instagram.com/maxismaddened/