Dream a little dream

You’re in my head,
night after night,
where sleep bleeds
into nightmares,

where you are
a remembrance
of things past
and things never done.

You’re in my heart
when I can’t breathe

anything but
fire and smoke,
whisky and wine.

You’re so far away,
and I can’t wrap
my arms around you.

Everything’s been
fiction and dreaming,

and your heartbeat
is only an echo
of what I wrote
years ago
in my loneliest hour.

When I wake up,
the sunlight will
banish you,

as it does,

as it must.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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