A Part of Everyone || Wattys 2019

Dreamful Sadness - Part I

There's always something poetic about sadness.

Like that cigarette you smoked at that specific place on that specific night.

And you remember the air you breathed. You remember the way you felt. You even remember the smell of the things around you.

It was a cold fresh night and you were coming back from your class, or whatever it was. You were waiting for the bus and looking at the flickering lights on the street. At the mountains, far, so far away from you.

You were sad. Not too sad, no. Somehow numb.

It's just a certain feeling that makes you feel good. Makes you feel like you're special, different from the others. Not as shallow as them.

The stars were almost invisible, the persistent fog was somehow present. And you didn't want to go home. Because there was nothing left there. This was the place you wanted to be in. Forever surrounded by this mysterious aura.

You needed someone to figure out what you were thinking. Someone to just grab you and run. Run and laugh hard.

So hard.

To buy a bottle of wine and talk about life the whole night through, under those same stars you're looking at right now.

You wanted all of that so bad. But no one came.

No one grabbed you and no one made you run and laugh hard in the middle of the street. Because that night wasn't meant for it.

Because all that night was meant for, was a pack of stupid dreams about some rebel friend who didn't have to go home.

And a cigarette.

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A/N: Since I've been applying to some Awards, I decided to leave a note for the judges and reviewers. These first two chapters aren't quite inserted in the concept of prose poetry. They're more of a starter. It's sort of a prologue, perhaps. Have fun and I hope you enjoy this book!