I. Loathing

i would’ve torn you
a few new
if you knew
what i’d seen,
with eyes sewn
when i was shown
too soon.

II. Contrivance

The substance i walked through,
in dream this morning,
was most magnificent in composure:
crunching under one’s foot
like snow, or like sand,
but not cold to the touch,
nor did it stick when wet,

&& although the white tiny particles
poured out of the mountain,
on the side of it we walked,
holding your little hand.

I knew down the stretch was a beautiful beach,
where this substance,
met a glistening body of water.

Your animal was loving, just as you,
&& although your name surprised me,
i was in love to hear it nonetheless.

Your father had not yet arrived,
&& in your absence,
i left a tiny piece of my heart,
in your notebook.

The sign on the bus said “Omaha”,
and it seemed so familiar,
but my memoryscreamed
somewhere like Mqt, Ca.,

&& although i didn't acquaint with the other troublemakers
on the back of the bus, as i waited, i watched.

You came up to me, and our embrace
was so warm, your tiny ribs against mine,
beautiful brown hair in my face.

How strange it was, in this sun bathed dream,
when you should tell me your name,
i should not understand it at first,
&& asking again, focusing within your fortunate eyes,
you told me exactly what i should need to hear.
&& ponder i did, although
not without first telling you how lovely it was.

III. Realization

It seems you and i
have both fallen short
of our prospective places
in Babylon.

For i have not grown
into the man
you once dreamt
i should be,

and you are no longer
the lovely girl
i once thought
i would marry.

You and i are free to be
what we are; without
persecution or judgement
from one another,

but we both must understand
the waves we created
when our dreams and realities
did not actually coincide,

&& perhaps the dreams
that i have had, and still am having
are just ripples
from a past that didn’t happen.

IV. Peroration

You're no longer the dreamer
i fell in love with,
&& i am no longer the dream
you thought you once loved,

but please may we
free our hearts and release
all the contempt
we hold one another in?

It’s not your fault
you were everything i wanted,
and it wasn’t enough
to quell my soul.

please know though,
we need not hold knots,
and let our cold spots,
and ill thoughts rot; within.

it’s not my fault
you dreamt me so;
with weight unfelt in this world,
but i am only a feather.

We are free to be
if we only freed ourselves to be,
We are no different
if only we freed ourselves to be.