My flights of fancy do what they please,
My worlds
Galaxies
Universes
Flutter and mingle in the torrent of my mind
And bring with them new things
Ideas
Stories
Friends
Foes
Like a cancer of the mind
And never with such contempt do I view them
Until they obscure reality
And render me
Speechless
Because I suppose that I knew it was real,
I suppose that it registered somewhere,
But off in my galaxies,
I would not hear
Until one word--
Just one--
Hit like mortar
And burned like a black hole,
Sucking all of my fantasies away
Until I was left with a rotten reality
A grieving heart
And a friend
And a word.
And it’s Terminal.