remember when I told you of a dream?
of a thing that’s neither a wish nor a hope, something in between;
something sad enough to weep over,
yet strong enough to remember; a dream.
a dream that felt more alive than life, almost as if it’s real
a dream not born but induced as were to heal
heal all that I was, all I’ve come to be
she was the dream that, I believe, had saved me.
eyes golden brown, kissing mine; reminding me of who I was
who I was before I let myself break my heart
eyes that whispered secrets she would rather not
of how she couldn’t love me and how she would
a riddle, not mine to solve
she never has been and never will be
and so now I’m a victim of what never was
an aftermath of what I hoped could be
her breath, a symphony
those eyes, mires unsung
that voice, ether
heart, an ocean, deep & pure.
she could drown universes of feelings, never to surface
in springs of her tears she’d not let rain upon me
for she’d rather fake a smile and soothe
for she doesn’t know I could dive too
upon oceans of what she doesn’t care to admit though,
trapped on islands of what she chose to ignore
is a fact that she’d, one day, leave
and someday, she’d forget all this
then I’d only be a name she can’t remember the face of
a voice she wouldn’t recognize the sound of
a tiny memory fading fast, soon to be lost
to the waves of time and all that’s passed.
I love the way she thinks she loves me
so much that I beg myself to believe
maybe I would call out to her, tell her how I love her
someday perhaps but tonight, this is all I can muster.
dear Selene, give her this letter when I’m gone
when she looks at you, seeking something she doesn’t know of,
and don’t tell her it’s from me, let her think it’s from whoever she needs it to be
and I’ll know if she was happy listening to this, and maybe I can smile again, really.