He asks if I have dreams. Yes, I want to say
He asks if I have nightmares. Yes, I want to say.
He asks if I dream of him. Yes, I want to say.
But I cannot say yes.
If I say I have dreams, he'll ask what my dreams are about.
If I say I have nightmares, he'll ask what my nightmares are about.
If I say I dream of him, he'll bash my head against the wall until I die.
I dream of him, I have nightmares of him, I dream of him.
YOU ARE READING
undone - a poetry book
Poetrypoems. about death. about love. although i was never really sure there was that much of a difference there. for is it not true that when we die we are loved more?
