meet me on the other side

What a trip it is to live in two worlds at the same time.

One by day,

The other by night.

But both so intertwined by the threads of each side.

How is it that our subconscious can feel so real?

Like a lost memory lodged between the cushions of both realities.

These parallel experiences tend to linger,

Like smoke from the shadows

Or a cloud that always follows.

And we live our lives with open eyes

But sometimes I feel more awake at night.

Dimensions are a difficult thing to decipher,

Like that word you can't remember

Or trying to read the expression on the face of another.

These fleeting moments that sit on the tip of our tongue

But can't be touched.

I find that pressure always increases before tangibility

And that the subtle clues left in our dreams are the missing puzzle pieces

To this mystery we call our daily reality.