Imagination is such a horrible thing.
It makes you discontent when you should be happy.
It makes your heart wander and your eyes dim to the light surrounding you;
Question the perfectly quo status.
Squint, roll your eyes, purse your lips and suck your teeth
at what actually is.
Stop it, stop it mind.
Be quiet now. It’s not real.
Cease this useless wander lust.
It cannot be touched or held.
It fulfills only a moment.
A dizzying, swirling moment of fantasy;
Letting you escape.
Young again, rich, free, thin.
The object of some Adonis’s obsession.
The very wrong thing to do.
But you are here…aren’t you?
Imagination is a beautiful thing.
Helping you breath;
Relieving the pressure of real just for a moment.
A blessed inner excursion experienced in a nether field.
Not quite real, but true.
You cannot stay here.
It’s too strong.
It may keep you against your will;
Force your soul – the emotion realm – to stretch too far.
Exert a sway over your consciousness.
With the sweetness and the smells and the feelings…
Why come back now?
Let me go.
Imagination is a horrible thing.