Another dream.
But this time
it was different.
I don't want
you to think
any less of me,
but I'm still
holding on.
You were there
and so was I
and that was how it was,
until you got distracted
and I turned and walked away.
The only difference
is that this time
you followed.
You took my hand.
And I don't want you
to think any less
of me,
but I can't help
but wait
for that moment
which I know
may never come.
And here's the truth
in so many words:
sometimes at night
I toss and turn,
caught up
in a cold sweat
because of a dream
that I just had
or one I know
I'm going to,
and sometimes
I can't breathe.
For the record,
I've never shed
a tear for you
(but for maybe once,
in a dream of its own),
and I don't intend to.
I don't want you
to think any less of me,
but I somehow
just can't forget.
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2 comments:
I very much enjoy this piece Corissa. So I've read a few things by you now and I'm blown away by the way you can cut directly to the matter. You don't seem to tire or strain to explain anything. It makes your poetry stand out as excruciatingly honest.
I second that. Especially your willingness to be open about this stuff.
Corz, i miss you too. Only a little over a month, dude, we can do it.
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