Another dream as part of the treatment
In all reality, it feels like a torture
If they only knew what the beeps brought on...
The left-right, dream-inducing,
Tells my brain what to process;
And it’s always you.
If it hurts that much, is it healing?
Or bleeding out and re-peeling?
It’s the second dream since the therapy
On the second day since the therapy.
It felt better the first time.
The one where he thought I was weird,
Because it’s more realistic.
But in the one about you,
I got everything I’d ever wanted
And hollows one out.
It leaves nerves fried
And teary eyes
And palpating hearts.
Because there’s no room to grow,
No room left to dream.
It’s given me an eye to see what we could have been
And feel how good it would’ve been.
And now I know and long for those feelings.
And I think I always will,
Because I’ll never forget what I’ve dreamed.
I’m a broken, hollow body. These dream are tiring, winding torture. I don’t think I will ever get over him, it’s a deeper ache than you can expect someone to have for someone so non-essential in their life. But here we are.
The title is EMDR in Braille, or atleast it’s supposed to be.