A Dream

People, places, things; all your nouns

It’s as though I see all the pieces of you everyday

The you that was I, me, mine

And then I saw you.

But that was before.

And this.

.. ..

I am in a library.

It makes sense, libraries are safe for me.

I am working so diligently.

That is the first clue.

The library is full.

We are already full.

There is no more room for you.

You come in anyway.

So like you.

So uncharacteristic

You come to make a scene but if there was a place for a scene this is the place for a scene.

This you doesn’t hate making scenes

But I know this you doesn’t really want me.

Every you doesn’t want me.

You ask everyone to leave.

Yes, sir, even you.

No one is outraged. No one is surprised.

Not even me.

I knew this was coming.

Unbeknownst to my inside, I am calling the shots.

I have me to thank.

My stomach ticks like a bomb.

Saliva fills my mouth.

My lips part.

I can feel myself growing stupid.

You can see it.

I don’t really listen as you tell me that we need to talk.

Those words have slipped past your lips more times than I have ever really understood.

I would never listen, not even to keep myself myself.

You ask me not to talk to you, not to talk about you.

You take my hand, enveloping it in your own.

This is the warmth I had lost.

I don’t even think to pull away.

This is all I will ever get.

This is as close as we will ever be.

This is the only reunion we will ever have.

I move closer, as though to beg for another beating.

I ask you why you’re doing this.

You squeeze my hand.

I love you, you say, but don’t talk about me.

Don’t talk to me.

Don’t talk.

Don’t think

Don’t breathe

Don’t live

But I love you.

You pull me into your embrace,

And I am all enveloped

This me cannot forget the way you smell.

Our lips meet.

And it is so real.

I fit you the way I always dreamed I would.

Like I am dreaming I would.

You pull away.

The corner of your mouth.

My own northern star.

I still love you with an intensity that scares me.

And I am so angry.

Underneath all the layers of understanding and patience and kindness.

The injustice has caught up with me.

You sit down and proceed to speak.

You eyes are wild, your gestures artificial.

I cannot do this.

You say.

You are always saying this to me.

And I never really listen.

I always thought we could do anything.

That whole gallon of Hawaiian Punch.

On the table

It was a gift from you

It wouldn’t fit in the box, so I always carried it around.

And as you were speaking, I got so angry,

I dumped it right onto your shorts.

The yellow ones you think make you look fun.

You are so contrived.

Outside, I am too. I am contrived with the hope of ridding myself of you who has seeped so far into me.

Outside of the inside of myself I knew I had to rectify the situation.

I wanted to pretend it was an accident. I tried to convince you.

But my outside self, I made it fade.

Like it never happened.

Your shorts are still yellow and cheerful and oh-so-fun.

Like you aim to be, like you wish you were.

And just like that, you forgot.

Your eyes smile warmly at me.

I love you.

Don’t dare speak to me.

You reach out to touch me again.

.. ..

In a dream, we can change almost everything

We can escape any situation

We can hide from our prowling nightmares

We can be something we’re not and everything we really are

But in there,

and out here,

I can’t make you want me.

And I cannot stop loving you.