Sometimes
Sometimes I wish I could see them in all of their majesty, in all of there malice. I wish I could touch, hear, and smell them. Sometimes I wish they were real and not only in my dreams. They haunt me while I sleep. Beautiful, and hideous. When I wake and I realize it was only a dream my stomach fills with dread, threatening to spill over. But I can not tell a soul for maybe they are real. If I told of them, they would surely kill me. And sometimes I wish they were real.
