It Would Be Easier if I Could Dream of You [Poem]

It would be easier if I could dream of you,

you know.

If I could somehow see your face

against my closed eyelids,

it would be one small reminder that

I am here,

that I am alive,

and that I am capable of remembering.

 

It would be easier if I could dream of you,

but I have never been so lucky

and the sea is the closest I have ever been to your

sea-foam eyes while I sleep.

I always wake feeling as though I’ve

missed something important,

gripped somehow with an unnamable fear

that the world is changed, different in some way,

and that we are farther apart

than we have ever been.

 

If I could dream of you,

perhaps I wouldn’t feel so guilty

about periodically misplacing your memory

as though it were a fraying photograph,

loved, but discarded.

You’ve come to be surrounded by a certain nostalgia

that has a blunt edge which somehow

cuts more deeply than a knife.

 

It would be easier if I could dream of you,

yes, easier,

but easy is the only thing

I was promised life wouldn’t be.

Closure is impossible yet,

but if I could dream of you perhaps I could begin

the long process of letting go,

instead of spending all of this time

trying to hold on.

The End

3 comments about this poem Feed