Monday, 27 July 2015

Shaking

Woke up this morning
In physical pain
Shivering violently, which had
Nothing to do with the cold winter air.
I stepped into the shower
Desperately trying to wash away
The dream of you
Which had so violently permeated my consciousness.
I dreamt that you had stayed over
At my house, grudgingly
Something that was so far from reality
That it had to have been a dream either way.
I somehow managed to ignore you;
Turn my back when you walked into the room;
Stare hard into nothing while enduring
Your piercing stare fixed on the back of my head.
I wanted nothing more than to
Turn around and hold onto you
Before it was too late and I woke up,
Finding myself a shaking mess.
Every time you find your way into one of my dreams,
The following day is a write-off.
Every time a non-existent reality seems
So close to feasible in those unconscious hours,
I awake a little less ready and able
To carry on without you.

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