tell me about your dreams
about twisted trees
and falling tea leaves
tell me about how your dreams help you cope with grief
it doesn't have to be brief
you always are the comedy relief
but what's going on underneath
in all your sweet dreams
the dreams that make you gleam
you follow the streams and seams
in your sweet dreams
it seems so far,
graduation,
walking down in a black tight dress,
one by one,
suits and ties,
flowing dresses and shining tiaras.
we're called up one by one by our full names,
i once knew a girl,
she was sweet and open to everyone about everything,
i was good friends with this girl,
say i knew her more than her parents did,
she had short auburn hair and pretty blue eyes,
its funny,
funny how you tell me to stay silent when all you do is speak.
i cry sometimes,
i cry sometimes to sleep,
because all i can think about is you.
and i'm not a big fan of you.
Comments
I love the idea of this encounter between these characters, both the speaker and the subject: one, so ready and willing to listen and probe and crack the nut, break the harder exterior of humor their friend employs, and the other on the other side, someone who's probably waited a long time to be asked, "But are you really okay? How are you sleeping?" It's a tender image.
thank youu!! it's my favorite thing i've written :)
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