Share Your Dreams

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My Dream Is

My dream? Well I could only express a feeling,,something that came from a self-realization of who i am or whom I want to be as a person; I was only able to write it in a sort of prose poetry form: I love. I love our complexities. I love our ugliness, our individual versions of what’s beautiful. I love our loudness and Our incredible silence. I love my ability to connect with others and I love my loneliness. I love that I can love my self. I love that I can hate myself. I love that I can kiss you. I love that I can hurt and be hurt. I love how I know things. I love how I don’t know everything, because I live for discovery. I love how as an artist I am understood by others, but only through their interpretations. I especially love how as an artist I am mostly NOT understood. I love how sometimes saying something means nothing. I love how words can be the most powerful things that exist. I love how I’ve been PEACE, and I’ve loved how I have been WAR. I love how war has given me the drive to never want to see it again. I realize now horrible things are simply springboards to make positivism a worthwhile mission-- to give others the things I see as a poet, which they cannot, as a gift..and I love how my soul feels this is my DUTY. I love how I can touch the Earth. I love how i can leave this world by searching my own mind. I love how I can make unreal things exist by simply using my pen. I love our complexities, my complexities--your complexities. I love. ~Lo