Sunday, September 9, 2012

Wishful Dreaming

In my dream, he didn't just say hello.
He greeted me with the warmest smile.
He didn't say what's up.
He didn't ask me anything.
He could figure out exactly how I felt.
He took me into his arms.
He held me for what seemed like hours,
and he whispered that he was so happy.
He said he could see no one in the room but me.
I felt safe.
I felt overjoyed.
I was at home.

And then I woke up.
And my heart felt heavy and sick.
Because he isn't mine.
He isn't, and will not be mine.

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