Guest Appearance When I Was Sleeping
Last night I had the strangest dream. Everything was exactly how it seemed. Except, there was this girl. I knew her. I know of her. I’ve seen her picture. I know some of the songs she likes and the people who sing them. It was oddly inspiring. We held hands and she showed me around her city; one of the few I have yet to see. It’s strange because she lives on my screen. We were in love. As in love as one can be, as far as dreams go. I was in love with her or the idea of her or may be just her face. Either way, she gave me butterflies when I was sleeping. It was oddly, intriguingly strange.
It’s never who you think it is.
My bed is half empty or half full. Hands by themselves are unfinished puzzles. Eyes can see forever when staring into others. Now, I’m looking for every reason to say something. Any way to get your attention. I just want to watch TV in your apartment and walk around your town. Drink until the sun comes up and fall asleep on the ground. But when I look in your direction my mind turns off. Leaving me defenseless as the gloves slide off. But you don’t even meet me in my dreams. This always sounds worse than it seems.
