Anonymous Dreams


You’re my prisoner. I know it. Each day, when I see how blind you are to the truth.

I know that only I am the one to know, that you are my prisoner.

There is nothing within my chest, nothing that feels a thing. I close my eyes, and I’m not even here with you.

I’m not here.

I am with her. The other. My lover.

There is a wound all over you. Bloody and open and bleeding. I see it. I don’t dare reach out. I don’t dare touch it. My sweetest friend, you don’t know about it. Like you had climbed out of a car crash. Bewildered. Not seeing that you were mortally wounded. And all who stood around you, wanting to help you, but not able to.

Not able to reach out, for shame, for pity, for seeing your tragedy. I am the maker of your tragedy.



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