things I write when I'm feeling low

they take the shape of nightmares
to feed dreams and seedless tears
and one by one the shapes become real
and one by one flow the tears
to feed the seeds of seedless dreams

don't ask her why she cries
she has lost reason and lacks reasons why
let the tears flow, one by one,
and change color as they hit the ground

if anything should change, would they even know?
that she has lost herself, that she no longer is
because if reason comes, and takes life from dreams
with them will flow her life that lay in her tears

Immortelle, that poem is lovely (yet sad), like your name.