i keep waiting to wake up from a dream

I waited up for you.
I waited up for you to wake and see me lying there next to you, hoping to hear your breathing stop like I stole it from your very lungs.

I waited up for you.
I waited for you to wake up in the middle of the night and feel my presence too far from you and act on it.
I waited all night.

I saw you wake up and sigh and roll over. I saw you breathe as if nothing had changed, simply another pillow on the bed – only this one had a heartbeat.

That’s all I am to you, something to keep you company in the dead of night when even your dreams can’t keep you under control.

Pillow with a heartbeat huh,
Maybe next time I’ll remember my place and close my eyes before you make me feel like I have to drown them to the point of exhaustion.

Next time I won’t wait up for you, I just simply won’t be there.

I always thought you’d come back
arms open
waiting for me to jump up
and cling to the flesh on your neck.
I can see it now
you’re standing in a field,
the sun’s setting behind you
but it’s not blinding
your silhouette looks too perfect,
like a painting,
like a dream
I don’t wake up yet
I keep walking
the wheat grazing my legs.
I feel the breeze as it blows through my hair
it’s the perfect temperature, just sitting on my skin

(like you used to when we were curled up in bed,
your fingers tracing the small hairs on my arms
starting from my wrist all the way up to my shoulder.)

I finally get to you
as if I’ve been walking my whole life
destined to stand a foot away.
(almost there, but still not close enough)
I can hear your breaths
so faint it blends into the wind
like a little whistle,
it takes me back to when you held me in your arms as you slept.
I never realized all the little things I missed.

we’re standing in this wheat field,
the Suns making my eyes gold, I can tell by the way you’re looking at me
you see this sparkle in my eye
and wonder what happened,
why it ever disappeared.
it only feels like we’ve been standing there for a few seconds
or maybe hours
I can’t tell.
all I can think about is your hand
all I can think about is you moving it just a few inches
reaching out for mine

then all of a sudden the Suns practically gone,
the moon has started its turn in the sky and is just behind me
your eyes drift
locked on its white crescent
you only see her

(I always thought you’d come back.
come back from this dream youre in
where you love the sun,
but no matter what you’ll always belong to the moon.
I always thought some day
the sparkle in my golden eyes would be enough)

in the dream it’s too dark to see anything except her.
you’re looking at me
but still her body is balancing on my eyes
dancing as they shift back and forth,
swimming as tears start to form.

(I’ve always been waiting
waiting for her to sleep so I can be reborn,
so you can see my eyes change from brown to gold,
so you can feel my warmth.
I’ve always been waiting for excuses
to be enough for you
I wonder when I realized I never was
I wonder how long I pretended I never knew.)

—  “you may be sunshine darling but we both know the moon has my heart” // August 27, 2016

theres an indistinguishable smallness in me. I wander, I pierce my ear in a bathroom and stop halfway through like something is beginning to bloom out of me. I think about you undressing in the snow, haloed in the blur. I think about how it sounds like there’s a whole ocean moving in the storm drain when it rains. in the mirror I seduce myself, gently. waking up from a dream about a car crash, relearning how to breathe, falling back asleep. some parts on my body keep scabbing over, because I’ve learned that certain things attract pain: my knees jut out and wait to be fallen on. they are sacrificial in their protection. they always heal.