'Tell me one thing: what kind of a person are you dreaming to be?'
He asked, his voice in the wind, his hands tightly gripping, securing mine from the cold that is coming from the woods rushing in.
I don't make sound
Breath in the fresh air
The gloom of early morning wake.
For as long as you are here
I want to be what you need to be
The best version of yourself.
Instead,
I say nothing
I have too much too say
How to start
Without revealing the end
Just not yet
I don't want to be reminded that everything will have to break
When reality wakes
And claims me for itself.
I don't know you
Out of this dream
How can I love you when you are not even real?
(Don't pay any mind to my subconscious: she is trying to tame me and be master of my life and keep me sane and my feet on the ground just so when I die they wouldn't have to say 'shame she lost her mind she was a promising bright little one'. She is losing a fight: you can't give up on something that kept you alive when night couldn't get darker than life; when veins looked like beautiful flowers ready to open up )
I talk all of the time
But when it is the right one
I can't bear to say something and then have to watch you leave
Leaving me alone with my thoughts my demons fears
Because I said too much
And it turned out the time was right
But this thing were playing out
Pretending was only ours
Was too young
For proclamations of never ever till death do us apart.
'A person not afraid to love and be loved' I say
He smiles and leans in to plant
A kiss
On my frozen lips
To shut me up.
'What a nonsense you talk, you messed up, little mine.'
