I dreamt last night that my bed was infinite
A universe made of cotton
I let my muscles settle into the milky oblivion
And counted stars like sheep
While the universe spun around me
But I grew lonely very quickly
Because I didn’t know its favorite song
And it didn’t have eyes that crinkled when it laughed
It didn’t wish me good-night
Or ask me how my day was
It never listened while I talked
Or sung off tune to the radio
It didn’t do any of these things
And this made me sad
Because it wasn’t you

He was a stumble
Raw knees scraped on hot pavement,
Bloodied and sore without a kiss to make it better
But it healed anyway because that’s the way life works sometimes
And we’re not always fortunate enough
To have everything leave a mark.
He was a cut,
Not a scar.

It’s those bleary eyed moments
Between the worlds of sleep and consciousness
That I cherish the most
Because it is in those moments
That for a brief second
I’m still unsure
About what is fantasy and reality
And I can convince myself
That you might just be mine