The last time I dreamed about you
I planted the dream in soil.
When I fell asleep and woke up.
I believed you to have grown,
Like any other flower.
Even if you turned out
to be a rose,
I didn’t mind the ***** of a thorn.
When I wiped my eyes
There was a cactus in the soil.
There are good dreams
And there are bad dreams.
Most bad dreams start off good.
Then become prickly and cold.
I didn’t care.
I lugged you around with me
everywhere.
Pulling out the spines
that stuck me.
No matter where we went
I considered them kisses
From you to me,
And me, I considered my dream
A reality.
Then you got larger.
Then you got heavier.
That happy lug turned to a hard pull.
And those cute little ******
Turned into being stabbed.
there’s a reason why most cactus’
Are found in the desert.
And why some dreams
Are just like a cactus