Books and Dreams

Some mornings I wake up and think the last 2 weeks have been a dream.

A story in a book somewhere.

And I pray that they’re not a dream,

Something that in the morning will dissipate and fade away.

But a book

A book I can handle.

A book that I can rewrite the end.

Rewrite it and put you and I together.

Rewrite it so it doesn’t end so painfully.

Rewrite it so I don’t get plagued by the nightmares

When I’m asleep and when I’m awake.

Some mornings I wake up and think

These last 2 weeks cannot have happened.

Because I went from perfect bliss

To the deepest of the pits.

But they did happen.

They weren’t a dream

You were real.

They weren’t a book

It ended and now I’m here.