Why you changed me why
You came to me in a dream with one eye full of hope and the other, uncanny despair. You touched me between my temples and ran your hands down all the way to my cryptic cavern which most people refer to as a soul. You dipped one finger after the other and in a matter of a few seconds, you clenched your fist around my very core and pulled out every last vein from my idle heart.
Maybe this is what dying feels like.
You came to me in a dream whispering sweet sonnets of summer skies and promises of an unknown land. I let you grab my hand as we ran through infinite yellow daffodils and you screamed profanities to the sky. You stopped because I was running out of breath and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
Maybe this is what living feels like.
You came to me in a dream.
You weren’t you. You had a slender nose, thinner lips, smaller eyes, brighter hair. You whisked me away into a world full of cotton candy and cheesy music and I gasped as you flung yourself into my arms with a force as strong as the universe. We linked arms and I rested my head on your chest while I tried my best not to say the wrong thing at such a right time. I gazed into your eyes and even though you weren’t you in the physical realm, my fragile heart somehow recognised your scent and my inner bones coiled towards your shaky touch.
Maybe this is what falling in love feels like.
You came to me in a dream caressing my cheek and creating knots in my brain. We left the black and white city and stumbled onto the edge of a rainbow. Before we reached the end, you let go of my hand, disappearing into the clouds. And I woke up breathless with a grave heart because even on this side of my consciousness, you were nowhere to be seen.
Maybe this is what heartbreak feels like.