Some Dreams

In my past life, I believe I was a blind man,
With such powerful dreams that they sometimes
Bleed through to the here and now.
In this slumber, I am always alone-
Except for the familiar corners of the abyss-
Void of colors I've never seen- and of course words.
Lots of words- more words than any human
Should be allowed to comprehensive in one night.
Stories, prophecies, conspiracies, secrets
(Mostly kept between God and me),
Maybe just random words that come so close
To actually making sense, that I search frantically
For an escape from the mad gridlock of letters...
I awake often in a cold sweat-
Eyes still closed- groping blindly for a utensil
That will satisfy the hungry grooves of my right hand-
Afraid to restrict anything so beautiful.
Words multiply all around me- no boundaries, anything goes!!
There's prose on the walls melting down
Into poetry that stains my pillows-
Finally giving birth to bed sheet manifestos.
My heart is ready to explode- its every ounce exhausted!
Love, lies, fear, God and everything in between!
Leaving me with precious tears of relief as reminders,
That I must again open my eyes,
And once more pick up where I left  off.