Anti-Climactic
With your image beneath my lids
I close my eyes and lie down,
Hoping you'll be my dreams again tonight.
My mind imagines that look of real loving in your gentle eyes
As you wrap your arms around me.
I feel it when your fingertips brush the skin of my cheek
And I see you smile
Small
At my contented sigh.
Your hair is soft between my fingers
As you press your lips to my neck.
You hold me tight in your arms
And goosebumps raise on all of my skin.
We lie like that for hours
Beneath these lids of mine,
Until the morning rays break through the trees outside my window
And I'm pulled awake.
I touch my cheek
And brush my lips,
Feeling ghosts of memories that were never there.
The sadness is sometimes crushing;
Mostly it makes me feel
Numb and hollow.
I miss what never happened
Because it's what feels most real.
I close my eyes and lie down,
Hoping you'll be my dreams again tonight.
My mind imagines that look of real loving in your gentle eyes
As you wrap your arms around me.
I feel it when your fingertips brush the skin of my cheek
And I see you smile
Small
At my contented sigh.
Your hair is soft between my fingers
As you press your lips to my neck.
You hold me tight in your arms
And goosebumps raise on all of my skin.
We lie like that for hours
Beneath these lids of mine,
Until the morning rays break through the trees outside my window
And I'm pulled awake.
I touch my cheek
And brush my lips,
Feeling ghosts of memories that were never there.
The sadness is sometimes crushing;
Mostly it makes me feel
Numb and hollow.
I miss what never happened
Because it's what feels most real.
♠ ♠ ♠
I write a lot of poems about dreams - in fact, there's very little of my poems abut real life. They mostly deal with abstract concepts like being in love, and very rarely from my own experiences.Then again, they're all vaguely related to people and events in my life in some intangible way.