Dying Dreamers

            Dreamer, where did you go? I saw you here, I saw you and I loved you and I knew you. Your arms were stretched to receive the arid land, your smile was ever so slightly cracked. You were there and you weren’t. You were on boats and underground, you were ready for everything, your lungs filled with the sweet forgiving air. We needed each other. I gave you your words and you filled my veins with joy.

            And then I filled my veins with something else, and you didn’t know how to look at me. You spat in my face and sold me out, you told everyone that I was dead and had always been so. You clawed at my eyes and you clawed at my heart, you pulled at my hair by the roots. Your sole purpose became to damage me so that no one else would love me the way you did.

            And then you left.

            You left and I screamed your name and still you were gone. All of me wants to hate you, but the tiny part that controls me expresses doubt. Doubt that, if you came back, I wouldn’t run into your arms and beg you to take me, to want me again. Doubt that I wouldn’t throw up these pills and crawl to your feet. Doubt that I don’t need you to tuck a lock of hair behind my right ear and tell me that we are strong and that we are brave and that we are together.