Out of a Dream

December 16, 2016 § Leave a comment

10330010

How I wish that my dreams would let you go. You don’t deserve this freedom—so often you denied me—to walk in and out my kitchen, to change faces and sexes, to cook and eat in it, tell people you love me you never told you loved me, hold my hand and swim in moonlights, and all this children’s stuff. So inappropriate for someone who spat on time’s wheel. After all I am gone now and this is only your dream.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Out of a Dream at I was not born in English.

meta

%d bloggers like this: