Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Dreams Untold

In the middle of the night,

after the stars had seen fit to pay a visit,

my mind was finally made up.

Dark thoughts, rainbows and confused kisses,

everything was okay,

finally I was still for a second,

in touch with my soul,

not sure what to say to her,

in awe of how I could be a constant mystery to myself,

tempted to open my window and wail the truth,

eventually deciding against it.

Long ago, I saw myself as a man’s wife,

yet that life now belongs to a stranger,

and all that I am is lipstick prints in reds and pinks,

layered all across the mirror, in a beautiful, confusing picture.

Everything makes sense, I suppose.

So many things I wanted, were just to prove that I could have them,

buried underneath my hurry to have him was my hunger for her,

internal whispers about how weird it felt to kiss, touch and be loved.

All that I am is unconfirmed, unassuming,

never to be truly seen.

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