Prism of Prisons

I feel taller this morning...
Literally taller because of a dream.
It answered me in the smallest fraction of time.
The shifting shapes of faces.
The trade.
The look deep inside for answers.
"I am the door."
"You are the door, Miranda."
And then I awoke, and I was taller.
The days of drowning past...just a few.
Just of why this poverty?
Just of why this widdling down of my ego?
A portal.
A portal into the other realm.
A place where I am not "sick."
Shifting shapes, trading spaces.
How fast does this happen?
Faster than a blink.
How do I get to this place how do I understand it more?
How do I accept it as real and leave the other plane behind?
The nasty nothingness of Flatt behind?
I want to make it happen, but I cannot...it's just a waiting, watching and patience thing.
I wish to conquer my fears.
I wish to be made plain to see for all.
I wish to be wise.
Most of all I wish my truth to match what I know and stop even toying with men of Flatt.
There seems to be some kind of solace in others' realities and a crashing down of sorts into it.
There is confusion after, but I know I do not belong there.
God hurry. I'm sick of the confusion of what I can see with my very eyes, versus what people tell me is real.
Why you ask me to be this strong I do not know?
"I am the door."
Held back in one realm for a reason.
Feels like a game. A very long game.
I am sick of the game...
It's a prism of prisons.
And so I feel taller this morning.
Taller than yesterday...because I feel purpose.
Nothing works out for me in Flatt for a reason...and it is so tangibly purpose full that is happening so that I serve a greater destiny.
Whatever that may be, let it be.


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