Dreaming A Nightmare
I rise sweat percolating down my temple, heart racing, and eyes watering. I dreamed a dream. A dream about a memory; or more the cultivation of a collective of memories.
Whomever claimed dreams to be comforting obviously never had something that they’d pined over for years. Pleasant dreams we say, in hopes of a comforting late night’s rest.
I have the epic misfortune to relive some of my greatest moments in life. Only to wake from them dissatisfied and grasping for a way back in. By the time I reach the shower, life as it is has grown bleak.
Every waking second is agitating, I don’t want to live through those previous moments; not like this.
These dreams, why do they haunt me? Dreams are desires, goals, ideals. Yet here they are, stagnant posts and still photos of the past; forever sketched into the shadowy recesses of my mind.
So I ask why do you torture me so? Is it too much to stay back and await my need? Do I subconsciously call you forth? Oh sweet love of mine! Let me rest peacefully in the night.
I do not wish to dream a dream of regret. Let me fight the nightmares that swoon in the night. I wish for them more than the tender kiss of my past.