Reverie

I wish I didn’t have to dream.
All I ever dream is disappointment,
hope and loss of
hope, and being around people
I don’t like or being around
people who can’t help or won’t help.
There’s no one I can turn to in
dream, just as in reality.
Isn’t that wrong?

Aren’t dreams supposed to be my
Hawaiian escape from bitter
biting reality forced
onto me every day? Aren’t
dreams supposed to be where my
perfect lover comes to me
with a wanting gaze and a
heated grin, using me
to fulfill fantasies?

Perhaps that’s why I don’t
believe in time. I’m so used
by a harsh, lonely demon, always,
that the cycle feels forever.
Maybe that’s why I don’t have
nightmares. I’m so accustomed
to dreams going sour that
they just don’t affect me
anymore.

Like pounding a wound gone numb,
maybe that’s why I don’t like
the taste of sour candy. There’s no
fun in a flavor of which I’m fed
far too much. Every night is a
nightmare. Every day is a nightmare.
Could I live or dream without
a wish to not dream
or live?

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4 thoughts on “Reverie

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