Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

3 Days

I dreamed of you last night.

Diamond ring.

Rose quartz rhetoric.

Someone said that you were sad inside,

and I didn’t understand,

because my heart is at home,

on my sleeve,

on my cheek,

on my lips.

The waking world was waiting,

but I wasn’t in a hurry,

watching your nervous negotiation,

with the future,

and the past.

Someone said that I could have anyone,

and I wrote your name,

on their misty,

rose tinted glasses.

You were before me,

holding tomorrow in your trembling fingertips,

I was inconsolable,

my mind readers,

mapped out all around me,

muttering the same sentence,

but I still pretended I didn’t know what to say.

I wrote down my name in full,

sticking yours to the end,

in hope and glitter glue,
leaving you down on the floor,

where I didn’t have to look at you.

I have been anxious,

unsure,

so sure,

so impatient,

so many different states,

since we last dreamed together,

and I dream of you,

every night,

so you can imagine how chaotic,

my waking hours are.

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