Dream Ridden Wanderlust.

In the arms of sleep
dreams of you haunt
reminding the heart
of the loss that's been had.

Running through the crowded streets
wearing ballerina shoes
tripping over mud puddles
climbing up a green hill
all to reach you.

Open doors to an apartment
seemed like a 2 bedroom one bath
with a cozy little kitchen
center table with a bayonet
and some couches to rest tired bones.

No one is there,
am I too late?

Ringing at the door
open it to find you
in white
arm to arm with a stranger
and all I hear is:

"What did you expect?
Did you really think
that anything could come
from what we had?"

Like everything we lived
was a meaningless stage
like being there with you
wanting to kiss you everywhere
was a meaningless moment.

When they all hid
under the umbrella in the house
the plot was seeping thick
good-bye's were being concocted
so I donned my Ballerina shoes.

In the rain
everything feels easy
loving,
crying,
breathing.

But when she say's
"What did you expect?"
its' amorous drumming on the window pane
turns into a hollow void
drowning a smile
just so happy to see her.

Sorry to bother you
I guess.

Might as well hide
the distaste of my chastity
all in the hopes
that a heart bruised
and aching
may one day be able
to take a hit
from the shadow boxer yet again.