Thinker of Thinking Thoughts

I think all day long and into the night.  My dreams terrify me.  My stepmom pretends to be a Dream 

Interpreter.  We call her the DreamWeaver.

  

I thought up a sentence, regarding a has-been love.  "You can't be 'in' anything if it is only one sided.

So when I said 'I'm in love with you', I must not have meant it."  

I thought of the dirt that once was a tree I climbed.  A god of the land decided that paper green was

better than shrubbery green.  There goes my childhood, in a blink of a tractors wheel.

I thought of how I want a world of a novel, much different, much more painful than the one I am

 living because it has a something-like love in it.

I thought of the way that I am and how I'm not sure I'm ok with all the past colored on my face like

too much makeup.  

I thought of the way that pressing the keys on a keyboard was a little similar to that of gunshots.

Words are damage too.

I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me, but when they asked me what, 

 I replied, "I don't know." 

I know that was a lie.