In the poloroids I have of you-[Were You Ashamed?!]

I fell asleep, listening to the sounds right outside my window, noise of the street. I played a game with myself in the dark, while waiting on you; I tried to figure out if I could know when you got here. Could I tell when you pulled into the nieghborhood, silent as the ghosts in my attic, ready to love me? I could not tell. Instead, I fell alseep, begining to believe that you got lost somewhere between the rainbows and dreams, got lost and not to come rescue me.

And then I woke up, to distant voices; converations down the hallway. In my dream, while I was half-awake, half-asleep, I wondered [I hoped] if it was you; it was you. And then I fell back into the poison of sleep, in a matter of nanoseconds. Almost as if I were poisoned, slipping into it, limp and useless. But I was shaken. Shaken, and afraid; being waken up in this household is never a good thing. Because kindness is never what is about to happen.

But in my slit-eyes, in what little eyesight, I saw you, towering. Towering, but it felt like you were still unable to save, me. I felt the hands, the brushings on my skin, heard the voices, the demands of 'Get up', the questions of my intentions and actions, always my actions. I lifted my head, and saw you. Towering, questionable; I wished for a saviour in my dreams, never a lover. I wanted then for you to only crawl into bed with me, not to use my body, not for me to use your body, but to sleep. Eternally, wishing. I think that sleep in another tim, with another person, you perhaps, would be so much calmer.

And now that I think about it, the sleeping and you, I realize I would be content to. Forever, and in any city- whichever city you chose. Just pick somewhere, pick quickly. I'll crash into you in the evening, quick as a gasoline fire, burning, and tell you that I wouldn't mind burning, as long as I burnt out with you. Staring Like Young Lovers, As We Should Be, Watching What Could Have Been. How many fields could we possibly dance in, together? I don't even care if I'm considered rediculas; because love is love, and once you love, you never return from that. So if Love is existing, where are the lines, any type of boundries? It means it's okay to love you, like this.

Of course, you always have to leave; I would do anything so you wouldn't. I teased you, gave ideas you breakfast is bed and sleeping all day and love. You still couldn't remain. And you're always scared I'll be mad, but I never am. When you walked down the hallway, I fought feeling tears; I'm scared it's always going to be like that, you leaving.

You know, I think that I really would cook you breakfast, if only you would stay.

And once I was alone, last night, alseep again, I had the worst night mares I can remember, for the past ten years.

Reviews

[Colleen Margot Lee]

i really really like this.
it is amazing. and that is all i can say