well, that's a dream

i saw it, pale

in comparison to everything i had hoped it'd be.

short, fallen, empty

dripping down the chosen path

i regretted immediately.

my fingers reached out, gripping

or attempting to, by the by,

to take what ever scraps of falsified reality remained

tangible for the feeble mind that

lingered in my shell of life.

--

chairs.

there were so many goddamn chairs everywhere.

that's what i remember.

ever notice you remember the strangest things?

sixty. had to be. or close to.

there were maybe six turned over.

another one was broken.

dust was everywhere.

i don't even know why i was there.

(letsbehonestnoonecaresaboutadelusionalgirlwithadreamandawishandadeepbreathandahopethathe'dbethere,waiting)

he wasn't there. but he

he was.

he was cold, sitting in one of the chairs.

and he stared at me.

from that goddamn chair.

it was green. rusted, and i swear

if he weighed any heavier

it'd have collapsed under the sheer duress of pressure

other than gravity.

i wanted to run, weave around chairs

crash into his arms and find something other than the linger of her soap on his shoulders.

but did i?

i cried. dropped to my knees, felt them buckle with a weight i thought my heart

had released

earlier.

(itobviouslyhadntwhyelsewasitherecryingforhimtoseeandnotsee)

all i remembered was fingers

fingers in hair and kisses and breathing and he stared at me, unblinking

un-fucking-moving.

i was just kneeling there

face in hands

ugly as all, crying until my head pounded

and my heart stopped beating.

i hope to god he's finally happy.

--

^--- none of that has anything to do with my life, presently. sorry for any confusion. i've had this aching need to write lately, and i'm feeling a little... compressed. it's difficult finding the inspiration i used to find, and now i'm just dealing with things i don't think ever really worked together to begin with. like my life, writing, living, working part time and being a half-way decent human being.

tentative. free. space. absolute. atrocious. optometry. kisses. noses. fists. holes. walls. toes. alphabet soup. why, why, why.

i'm not in my right mind, i can't sleep, and i really just wish i could curl up in someone's arms right now so i can feel safe. i like to feel safe. i... kind of need to feel safe. protected. i need to feel as though nothing else is going to go wrong anymore. that i won't be left in the dark, hanging on the words of things that i had no say in the matter of producing.

i'll... think. too much. for myself.

dear you,

i don't know who you are.

but i wish you were here.

-aleey

ps. i'm not depressed. jeesus, do i sound it? i must. i'm just trying to cope with feeling at odds with my life (which really... isn't terrible.)