I awoke

I'm still not certain what inspired this, but it's one of the many poems where the first line I write ends up somewhere in the middle.

I awoke

with a fire in my throat.

I’d been holding back tears

even in my sleep

and the rawness of my dream

was mirrored in my flesh.


My heart burned,

corrosive, with the longings

I could find no way to express.

Desire made me tongueless

though what I needed most

was to scream until my soul was quiet.


The dream

had been empty, just a void

devoid of space; lacking

yet so full of what I might

have been had I cared to attempt

to become it.


[I couldn’t try. Not without you.]


I hadn’t known,

hadn’t believed I could need

the way I need you. A whole

body and being sort of necessity where

I don’t feel myself if you

aren’t there to see me.


You don’t make

me complete. You aren’t truly

essential to my life the way air is.

But you are a need I choose like some

people choose to give birth—to see

themselves reflected.


So when you

were not in that dream and I felt

nothing without you, I knew it was wrong.

And once resolved to love you all the more

for your presence, not the lack of,

I slept in peace.

The End

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