I started having dreams
again, I hate dreams,
they are a mockery
of my reality.
But once I decide something,
as indecisive as I am, I
don't get derailed easily.
I suppose my dreams know
I'm hooked, and that's
why they've returned.
I wake up empty
because I hate fake, and
that's all the dreams are.
I open my eyes
and they water with longing,
as they're fueled by desire
that leaves me ever wanting
when I wake. People tell me
I should practice restraint, stop
wearing my heart on my sleeve.
They're right, I know.
I have a brutal habit of leaving
pain in my wake and with me
everywhere heartbreak I take.
I barely sleep as it is,
now I'm afraid to. I'm afraid
of the dreams
and what I want
because for two people
to want the same thing...
well that never quite happens
with me.

~

I've had my heart broken so many times,
I think maybe I just like to see myself hurt.