Norm the Warm

I died in my sleep,
Last night.
My head was warm,
My feet were cold,
So just right.

I wanted my dream
To last forever.
I wanted my little heartbeat,
To lose its letters.

I slept on my front,
With a mind in a dream land.
The forces were blunt,
But there was a gentle hand.

Guiding me away,
To a place I know,
As if he wanted to say,
There’s nowhere else to go.

He was familiar,
Like a lost old friend,
With a shade of peculiar,
And a cigarette’s end.

“Where else can we be?”
Elsewhere, far from here.
Where dreams are free,
And the skies are clear.

My world went to two,
One, upon my bed,
And the other,
Inside my head.

These universes aligned,
In a single night
By the cuts of my spine
On wings of an aether flight.

“Look now, my friend.”
Where are we,
but ELSEWHERE!
Look, look there.”
T’was but a bed
laying underneath, me.

I’m alone,
Dying,
but alone.

Waiting
to come back home.
Waiting,
for the dream to end.
Waiting,
for my sleeping syndrome.
Waiting,
to die again.


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