my imaginary friend :P Options

[Heathasm]

i started writing this yesterday night...and i finished it today, at least i think its finished...its hard to explain how i feel about this man in my head :P

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I know a man, who’s a figment of my imagination

He listens to me with thought and compassion etched into his face, looking so innocent; his voice, with a woman’s accent, is soothing (it exposes his emotion), reminds me of my mother; this, coming from some one that I love so much…to think of her blind and ignorant hate for me-the thought of this scares me extremely.

He never asks or asked me why I say, "Oh, God, please help me" when the thought crosses his mind every time that we speak of life...which is usually mine, anyway;
He says, “I'll be back later, baby”(That he has to get back to Hollywood before they close)-he leaves me in the dreamlike place, to play with his makeup and scenery, like a little school girl he skips off, and slowly fades into a distance, far more further than the yellow brick road or creamy, dark-starred, milky way stream, to a cardboard place he goes to know no more than what he wants

If things could turn out differently, I'd dress up in drag, like him, I'd kiss men on the nose and cheak, fondle women, not shamefully, as it should be for a homosexual male; and if things would turn out differently, he would be dead-He'd be buried in a cluttered cemetery not to far away, with marble-painted stones, inches apart from one another, like a magnificent sea of white ripples, set upon a fine oasis kept by plump worms and the guts of fish

[TheSilenceInDict...]

Hm, that's generally what I got from it.

Enjoying your work, keep posting up.

-Joe