A dream or a nightmare


No matter what I wrote in poems only minutes before

I still can’t believe it

I still see you in every silver Toyota that drives by

I still taste you on my tongue

With every cigarette

I still picture you facing me on my wall

I still feel your arms and your warmth around me as I walk by the park we’d lain in only weeks before

I still see you laying across my bed, with the light flooding in through the window, over the covers, separated only by my heavy backpack.

I still see you in every paper crane I consider making

Unable to decide to make them again, and I see you in the 1 dollar bills I’d made one out of.

When someone walks into Astro smelling of pot,

I remember what it had tasted like on your lips

And how it had felt to kiss you when I’d had some too


I can’t picture the birds tattoo I want

Without remembering you had become one of them

I can’t look at the pirate bracelet on my left wrist, nor the black bandana on my right, nor my watch, nor my stone bracelet, nor my 3 rings without picturing you and your 3 rings, and your brown hair and your hazel eyes and your thin, veiny hands and your toned arms and how your jeans slip down, unable to cling to your hips, your scruffed-up shoes, that beenie you wore before you lost it and your black Vuarnet sunglasses and your butterfly knives and that ridge between your eyebrows when you think deeply, and your lips. Your strong shoulders, your thin chest, that stomach I’d run my hands over only days or weeks before


It already feels like you’re gone

A dream or a nightmare

An unconscious moment of distraction I made up in my head

And I am completely unable to think of your hands on me

It seems impossible

That you were not just a figment of my imagination

That it was not just a stupid thing I’d imagined, an I-wish-this-would-happen-to-me-therefore-I’ll-imagine-it moment

Did you ever exist?

Were you ever really here?

Did this happen?

Will I see you again?





More distance

More drifting




No more drifting

Dig my feet into this coarse, thick earth

And plant myself there

Let the roots grow

And hope you come back to pick the fruits on my limbs

Hope I’m still a beacon to hold onto,

A familiar tree you see when you drive by, lost, unable to find your direction.




7 Comments Add yours

  1. eimzpink says:

    I know the feeling much too well ❤ ❤
    I believe we can both get past this 😀 ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Nicodemas says:

    Incredibly beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. a mystery says:

    I just… I just FELT this. There is writing you read and writing you feel.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Thank you so much! ❤


  5. Birdree says:

    Awww this is beautiful! How are you feeling now? Hope you’re feeling a little bit better! xxx

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Thank you so much! I’m slowly getting better, thank you! ❤ Wish you all the best for the new year!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Birdree says:

    I’m glad you are 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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