Five Fourteen Thirteen

A vague dream of passion that appeared thoroughly clear to me.

No intention of this occurring was my decision.
My mind drifted off and wandered through thoughts of the unthinkable.
Lies would roll off my tongue if I let the words “I didn’t want this” be spoken.
I didn’t want the performance to happen, but I strive for the scenery.
It was passionate...slow...and enjoyment rushed over the capable placement of your hands.
Every move conducted explained thoughts untold.
I am curious as to know why the feelings are stowed behind unopened doors.
Causing destruction to you would be the death of me.
Do you think I asked for this to happen?
Our stability as of now is agreed with.
I closed my eyes only to have a long lasting, peaceful sleep.
But to my surprise, I wake in a puddle of fear drenched in nothing but the production of sweat.
Millions of thoughts rushed through my mind:
Cold rain drops pounding into the ground, leaving craters-
A balloon drifting into every unknown hemisphere of the earth’s atmosphere-
A tiger swerving dangerously around every obstacle, scurrying to its prey-
The speed of light.
Is it comprehendible?
Uncontrollable Shaking.
Shocked Confusion.
Selfish Desires of guilt.
Wishing multiplied by wanting.
I have a secret un-admitted.
Would your face possibly be burned with rose red fury if aware?
I only dream of telling you.
I cannot, my apology.
I matter no more than a sponge saturated with nothing but untold confessions.
Dream verses nightmare?
With frightened tattooed on my forehead, exposed to the world.
Visible to any human possible, this could be repetitive.
The risk? Being challenged to dream.