All my dreams are tortures, showing me glimpses of fragmented hopes come true: a look, a touch, a smile - all dashed upon waking. Though they're the only ones I can ever remember, they're the only ones I wish I never had. I used to dream of running from monsters, or of flying, or of breathing underwater. These have been replaced by hauntings of my fondest desires and memories of too-short eternities spent in her arms and in her eyes. If there is a world for every possible outcome of every possible situation, then there is a world where she and I are each other's and happy. My cowardice prevents me from trying to make this world that one. Even so, it's all I really want.
I dreamed again and you were there, the dark silk of your crown tousled from sleep, standing in the open doorway of a house in the middle of a beautiful and wasted land and leaning against the frame, waiting for me to come back from wherever I had been. You smiled at my approach and pulled me in. I placed my hands at the small of your back and woke up and now I'm sad.
On a street lined with trees I feel my brain's been impaled, and all of my dreams are cold and dead as old nails. But through all the pain, through the whispering loss, I'm alive, but I'm stained like some man on a cross. I just want to see - for a second or a year - if there's a chance I could be better than who is here, looking back through the glass, encouraging sadness, living in the past and drowning in the madness that comes with realizing he's the mistake.
There was a light, shining on the ground, just up the road a piece, but there was a tree a little bit closer. The tree moved so that I thought someone was walking to me and I was thrilled and irritated and I smiled because I wouldn't be alone. I didn't want to be alone, but a person would want to talk. I didn't want to be alone - I wanted to be left alone. I needed another sobbing heart, a different unnecessary mind, to be there, but only to be there. There's a medicine in just being with a person, and I smiled. Irritated, I smiled, but there was no one; no one was walking toward me or away. So I thumbed my nose and spat at the breeze for having let myself be fooled.