Just a dream I had @wokesquids-blog - Tumblr Blog

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J'ai rêvé d'un apogée.

Je passe par des cycles.

Je change comme la lune.

Oh ! Cela fait longtemps

Depuis que je t'ai vu.

J'ai honte de me souvenir...

La phase de notre soirée de rencontre.

J'envoie mes remerciements pour la lune croissante,

Pour nous avoir prêté sa lumière brillante.

Je reste agité,

Alors que je regarde l'horloge tourner,

Le temps a dû m'échapper...

Parce que je regarde le déclin commencer.

La lune est puissante alors qu'elle tire et pousse la marée !

Peut-être, perdu dans l'imitation, je t'ai tiré et pousée à mes côtés...

La lune doit se sentir si solitaire étant laissée seule la nuit.

Parce que maintenant, être seul me fait lentement pourrir l'esprit.

Tu es mon apogée !

Tu restes trop loin.

Ill est difficile de ressentir de la sympathie...

Depuis que tu as menti au besoin.

Peu importe comment elle se sent,

La lune marche sur son chemin.

Je lève la tête de douleur en sachant que je dois faire de même...

Je suis parti pour continuer...

Même quand mon coeur connait maintenant la décomposition.

#french #poem

I dreamt about dependence.

You gutted me out, and turned me into a puppet. The show is over and now my bloody carcass has no purpose left to serve.

#fleeting ideas

I dreamt about hopelessness.

Living or surviving?

A tale as old as time.

My heart still beats, of course,

But its reason does not rhyme.

I await spring falling into winter,

But that isn’t yet the case.

I haven’t been loving,

Let alone living.

Hell is one passionless place.

I feel nothing but pain.

Hold nothing but hate.

I live this life

In an emotionless state.

#poem

I dreamt about intuition.

Reflective, yet malleable.

The duality of such a mirror.

You can see nothing on one side.

The other could never be clearer.

I peek in and leer.

I worry about what’s beyond.

Told there’s nothing to fear.

I’ve been sung a perish song.

I lack any opacity.

I’m open as one can be.

I put to rest all tenacity.

Trust placed in what I cannot see.

When one is obscured,

They worry not about their actions.

An abyss of honesty.

No penalty for any distractions.

Without the abyss,

I’d have never seen the light.

Darkness has found its way inside of me.

Passing time will find me alright.

There’s more love in my replica’s eye,

Than would be waiting behind the glass.

Though another holds my treasure high.

I know that my mending will come to pass.

#poem

I dreamt about the devil.

The original hiss, and sound of a slither.

Never as compelling as your ordering hither.

Shadows of such darkness, but never pitch black.

Never as dark as your words of wrath.

A puppeteer’s hand is slick and meticulous.

Such sleight of hand, confusing your colliculus.

A precision and mastery I’ve never seen with you.

Unless I was the puppet, and controlling me was you.

Several sins may tempt me, but never would I fall.

Why do I stumble then, whenever you call?

I’d lust for you, need you, you’d be all I could consume.

But I’d wither at said slither for you’d never let me bloom.

I trust evil to be conquered.

Such is the way of life.

But a syndromed imposter still controls mine.

#poem

I dreamt about distortion.

I look at you in silence.

I know that’s not all there is to see.

I look into your eyes.

There’s something you’re hiding down deep.

There’s a certain darkness,

And a certain beauty.

Your evil is a fire,

Tamed by your gentle sea.

I think of all the contradictions.

An ethereal conflict.

I was once pulled in all directions,

So much so that you split.

There are multiple facets to you now.

When you stare, I don’t look back.

There’s a gorgeous physicality eyeing me,

But an awful disposition staring down.

I separated each part of you.

I needed to know what to hate.

In the end, all those paths

Lead me to the same place.

#poem

I dreamt about paralysis.

I wrapped the world in cellophane,

I pray to god it does what it’s supposed to do.

I wrapped my loves in cellophane,

I pray to god it does what it’s supposed to do.

I wrapped my life in cellophane,

I pray to god it does what it’s supposed to do.

I wrapped myself. I’m still in pain.

All it did was turn my face blue.

God turns away in shame.

It only did what it can only do.

#poem

I dreamt about betrayal.

You asked me what “was the the meaning of life?”

I was shocked, ‘cause I was looking at mine.

There’s nothing in life that will make it worthwhile.

Some choose God, but I gave you my time.

To live is to feel, to feel is to love.

To love is to forgive and keep giving trust.

I kept giving trust, but it was too much.

It was such a mistake to put faith in us.

To put faith in you— Because all I would do,

Is feel, love and trust someone who wouldn’t, too.

Despite all that pain that you put me through

Your someone new (and their someone new)

Hopefully, won’t do what you did to you.

So, I have yet to stop, and I never will.

Because life has no meaning, if I do not feel.

Who do you live for if you do not love?

How do you go on if you cannot trust?

There’s hurt in the world, people cause pain.

Through all of that sadness, and all the disdain,

Don’t let it kill you, don’t let it change,

The way that you love, without feeling shame.

The cruellest sin

of human invention

Is to stop one

from showing affection.

#poem

I dreamt about worry.

The city lights that beckon me home,

They reflect off the newly born puddles of rain.

I know I’m used to walking these streets alone...

But tonight, two footsteps wander in vain.

Whether buildings or clouds,

The sky is always covered.

And it’s all I’ve ever known,

So I disappear into big crowds.

The busy streets make me feel less lonely.

It’s stupid, I know, but true.

The whispers of thousands speak to me,

Since you no longer do.

The dark soothes me now,

But, I’ve always preferred the night.

I just like how it doesn’t remind me

Of your face in morning light.

How is it so that a simple coincidence

Could bring me all the way here.

Pondering an inevitable time,

One not yet near.

Treasure what you have,

But, the future is a thief.

Blindly living in serenity

Is living in deceit.

#poem

I dreamt about limbo.

I rise with the setting of the sun.

I feel warmth from no place, no one.

An attic peek,

Not a sound.

I lay in silence,

Making morbid vows.

I set with the rising of the sun.

Cold is the weather and everyone.

The attic creeks,

Deafeningly loud.

I know it’s not god,

He’s left by now.

#poem

I dreamt about circumstance.

Who cares if I admit it?

Who’s to listen to a spoken truth?

The problem isn’t admission.

It’s figuring out what to do.

I find myself here again.

Screaming at the hands of probability.

If I allow what’s been allowed again.

It’s no longer a matter of probability.

#poem

I dreamt about a butterfly.

The moon shined brighter than ever...

Maybe that’s why I remember so clearly.

That glittering sparkle as you passed by,

It was so captivating, it was all I could take in.

You were so graceful, you gave me hope.

Few things do.

As the gusts ravage on,

Most I know is gone.

A gentle breeze became a deadly torment.

Now, things rattle and break.

You left me in your storm.

Oh little butterfly,

Do you know?

Would it hurt you to?

I’m to blame,

I should have known.

And torn off your little wings.

#poem

I dreamt about relapsing.

I said hello to an old friend today.

We all have our vices, and I hate saying goodbye.

Live in the present, it’s all we have.

Plus, odds are low I’ll see a California sunrise.

It’s been 46 hours,

And the sun is yet to set.

The trees stand tall in imitation,

Such a beautiful, but thankless vignette.

They’re doing awfully.

I cage my grin.

The pain they put me through,

Is happy at the pain they’re living in.

“How long has it been?”

I clearly don’t care,

But, I already know.

Upset I got pulled back in.

Funny how life works.

You always come back around.

Running to the things

That always dragged you down.

I’ve been sober awhile,

It feels gross being clean.

I tried to distract myself

With the blues, pinks and greens.

I never fall, I never fall, but I fall.

And I hate that I’ve done it again.

Here singing nursery rhymes

To absolve my nursery crimes.

So I’ll admit: I’ve yet to say hello

To this friend I’ve had for years.

I tend to to keep miles of distance

From things that I hold dear.

I'm a moth to my vices.

They're one hell of a flame.

As badly as I want to, I can never get close,

As moths know, I'd be fair game.

I’m a moth to these bright city lights.

Surrounded by birds of a feather.

I love thunderstorms,

I love watching them all drop together.

It’s peaceful and alluring,

I want to stare at the eye of the storm.

I wonder if I finally could rest.

I wonder if it’d take me home.

I never count my sheep,

I could, but I’d rather count the times

That I’ve closed my eyes,

and pretended to sleep.

I’d sooner count the times I’ve lied.

And lied by lying too.

And know that I’m trying,

But, I’ll lie until it’s true.

No, it never hurt...

But, I’m not sure if that’s a lie.

If it is, I’m unaware.

But, many are as they die.

Who’s to worry?

I know it won’t be me.

My heart is pretty safe

When I hide it beneath the sheets.

I have said hello to this friend recently,

If you count all the times in dreams.

My mind gives me the courage

That real life steals from me.

Less so courage, more so control.

I’m not someone you still know.

I’ve been lost, it’s true!

But now, I’ve found you!

It’s me again can’t you see?

Growing older, such a poisonous sting...

Who am I now?

Sorry-

What am I now?

Do you know? Would you know? Would I know?

No.

Say hello to me.

Maybe then I’ll know.

You’ve been missing it seems.

We’re at opposite poles.

It’s been four and a half years.

Yet, you still don’t have time.

Perhaps, you don’t have any left,

Even when I gave you mine.

Weeks of unrest,

Years of unease.

All my worst decisions

Made in periods like these.

So, when I say hello again,

Because I know that I will,

Do I tell you all this?

So you know how I feel?

Would you care? Would you ask?

“Well how have you been?”

Should I answer it vaguely?

Should I drag you back in?

I’m no longer afraid of heights,

Because that’s always where you took me.

I smile in this sky full of kindred kites.

I’m no longer scared of falling.

I’m still scared of the dark...

The darkness in you, the dark in your heart.

But I can face that fear through,

To get to where you are.

I should be happy that I’m free,

But you’re a parasite.

I hate that I know I need you...

Or I’ll fall asleep at night.

A recipe for devastation,

I can’t control my thoughts.

Because you’re the destination

To every train of thought.

It’s pattern tracing at its finest...

Insecurity at its worst.

I’ll consume you until death do us part,

Because I think I love how much it hurts.

I’ll meet an old friend soon...

And I know this is true,

Because, when I’m at my lowest,

All I think of is you.

#poem

I dreamt about moving on.

I said goodbye to an old friend tonight.

We all have our vices and I've found someone new.

The past dictates me, but it does everyone.

Plus, on my own, odds are low that I'll forget you.

It was a conscious decision or me.

That's how I know there's an air of permanence.

The thought still lingers,

But I've removed the apple from Eve's tree.

We'll say hello again eventually.

There's a pressure in my chest telling me so.

But, tonight I said goodbye,

When I almost said hello.

I changed the ending every time I've told the story.

Now, I forget how it starts.

I don't care that all meaning is lost,

I care I lost my favourite part.

I have been at my lowest.

I feel I'll continue to.

But, I know I've said goodbye,

Because, I don't think of you.

#poem

I dreamt about being prepared.

You’re playing with your food.

A breath held like my hand before it.

A sucker punch can really change the mood.

Your food is getting cold.

Words I’m tired of saying finally rest.

The curtain closes,

Final ticket sold.

Your food is getting cold.

Minutes, hours, days, weeks.

A language I no longer speak.

I’d stare you down all night but-

Your food is getting cold.

Predator and prey

Die alone all the same.

I’d tell a cyclical tale just as old but-

Your food is getting cold.

I took a gamble, I took risks.

Always got hit before I’d fold.

We cut before the bust now-

Your food is getting cold.

Has the cutlery always been this colour?

Has the table always been this long?

Anxieties rise as you’ve yet to take a bite,

And I’ve been flinching far too long.

#poem

I dreamt about the forgiving rain.

It wraps around me like the coldest embrace I have ever known.

But, this is all I have ever known.

I welcome it.

It sways me,

Nurses me back to life.

It's everywhere.

It is nowhere all at once.

To be held.

That's all I've ever wanted.

Cold or warm.

"Beggars can't be choosers"

I imitate my hold,

And flow, like the river in which I will spend the rest of my life.

I look down on my hands.

Stained.

They remind me of me.

Like a missing child rarely does,

They come back to me.

Redeemed.

Forgiven.

God has forgiven me.

#poem

I dreamt about a candle.

"Does the wick bear witness?"

I asked myself after somehow waking to the peak of the waning moon.

"What does the wick whisper to the wax as she slowly becomes more and more brittle?"

It's dark tonight, more than usual. It's colder as well, colder than I'm used to. I'm not one to sleep restlessly, the eviction from my sweet dreams into the real world was honestly quite jarring. The candle I lit before falling asleep keeps me company. Its flickers are numbered, but it is trying its best. I realize that I do not know how I woke up.

"Maybe it was a noise", I think to myself.

I get up, and I walk to my front door. It's still quite the tread. My new place is much smaller than the previous one. Downsizing is difficult, but the reasons why tend to bear louder voices than the downsizing itself.

"Nothing"

I don't have pets anymore. Amora, our little black kitten. The name meant love. She lives with his parents now.

"Everything is where it should be", I mutter confused, but frustrated.

With a glass of water, I make my way down the hall to my room. There's not really much between the two, a half-empty closet—no one person needs that much space—and my washroom. I make a stop before reaching my room.

"That's enough to put my mind at ease. Overthinking does no one any good"

It's impossible to stop thoughts from pouring into your mind. But, as soon as that one entered my atmosphere, I felt a deep regret. I stepped into my room as if my brain had readied itself into autopilot before I remembered...

"Wasn't the candle still burning?"

Granted, there was not much life left in her, but I had been absent for no longer than two minutes. The chill of the dark night seemed to creep its way up my spine, and into my mind.

"It means nothing, I know"

I snap out of it. The candle must have simply blown out in a draft or something of that sort.

The familiar scrape of my match brings me serenity in knowing the candle's renewal will soon follow.

"There we go"

The scene is set, the very same one from the moment of my sudden reawakening. Everything is the same. Every letter dotted and crossed the exact same way. No amount of replication can shake a feeling, I suppose, because in this moment all I feel is dread.

"How does she feel?"

I'll clarify: "The candle, I mean"

Think about it... The night is a colossal abyss, and she is but a flicker, a weak one at that.

"It's purposeless—"

"It's hopeful"

Hope does no one any good, though. I'd know this all too well. I've never been much of a pessimistic person, but after a while, I feel like we all adopt a sort of defeatist attitude. Such can only be the result of constant defeat, right?

"Not her..."

I said this in a sort of mumble, I often think to myself, but this was one of the first times since—

One of the first times in a while that I actually let an utterance escape. It had needed to be said.

"It's just a candle for Christ's sake!"

I could hear the late Mary yelling at me. Who have I become to be developing these meanings in mundane things that cannot hold any? I was never the one to find poetic justifications for the existence of anything... He was.

"Get to sleep, Mary"

The candle was only a distraction at this point. After becoming aware to that fact I lied in my bed, and let the darkness of the night embrace me until I danced in the song it sang. My eyes fluttering like the candle that danced along to the rhythm in its final moments. It was in the blanket of the black shadows that I could finally fall asleep again. Words sat on my chest, however, and I could not truly go without letting them go.

"Hold onto it, poor thing. The bird in your hand will fly away eventually, it will be all you have left"

Naivety. It's an act of defiance.

"And it will be all you have left"

My words were received and I blew my good night's kiss.

#short story

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