Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Life Blown into Bubbles

People are never the way they are for me,
I always must add others in for color
To make of everyone someone perfected,
As complete as I dream myself to be

But am not. I can't live a day without
This fantasy, that our separate minds combine
To one idea, in one human form,
That we can be as much as we can see.

But the something more is never quite enough
No matter how real I can make it.
It always strikes some chord of truth, beyond
The clouds that I can see, no matter how

Imaginary I know it to be;
How dreams can make us one though we are not.


Jack said...

I think I go through versions of this. Ipseity and fantasy blurring together, then blurring my view of others.

Hannah Stephenson said...

It's a form of optimism and compassion, actually (I think).