The String

That Which Cannot Be

I've felt something far worse than any bloody dream, than any gruesome, fearful nightmare where no one hears me scream.

It started in a hallway, crowded and busy, when I ran into a strange new boy - but he wasn't upset with me.

He walked with a cane and shades across his eyes; he had been blind since birth, as his fate had seemed to design.

He was lost in the crowd, and as chance would demand, he asked me for help - so I guided him, hand in hand.

He was cheerful, always smiling, and his laugh was like a chime; it led me out of my past's sorrows and into brighter times.

We became the best of friends, him and I, and together would we stay. For where he would walk with me, my heart would surely remain.

He was the kindest soul I'd ever met, and the most incredible at that. Though he'd never seen my face, he said my beauty was a fact.

For he cared not for my flaws, worried not about my looks; he only cared I held his hand, and that was all it took.

But when I woke alone, I had no hand to hold; I had no friend to laugh beside, no one to love as I'd loved him so whole.

I couldn't feel his touch, and I couldn't hear his voice; I would never again see his smile, nor could I with the choice.

Some dreams are meant to heal, and some are meant to hurt; but never have I dreamed a dream where I awoke so burned.