interlude: a liminal space Songtext
von mieke

I lucid dream often
It is more real than the mundane of waking life
If I focus hard enough on an image
It becomes my reality
The feel of each footstep
And moths which die for their streetlight
Are just as vivid as my waking to
A brittle body on unclean floral sheets
I′ve tried to ask those I speak to in the
Dreamworld if they are as real as I am
Some they laugh and others frown
My dream mother, the same as my own but disfigured
Advised me I shouldn't ask such questions
Since then I′ve return to the same place
A suburban street
Liminal and vacant of any life outside of my own
It is 2007 and smells of childhood
I go into empty homes and explore their lives
Find photos of old lovers and unsent letters
Rusted guitars from a woman who traded passion For a nine-five to feed her children
There are paintings in the garages
Of those too afraid to show their soul on canvas
But I see them
I run fingertips along flowers
Which are no longer considered weeds
They sprout through cracks in concrete
And exist for no one but themselves
The moon is the only thing that breathes with me
The sun never rises and I never miss company
I often feel imaginary when I wake
Once spray painting"nothing feels real" upon my wall
Dragging myself out of bed
I hear stories of people who have lived
In a lucid dream throughout their coma
Waking to a life so dreadful
They commit suicide to return to lived their euphoria
Each time I wake, I wake sadder
I am afraid to kiss train tracks in reality