I Lay

Here I lay in all I am become

In silent letters who make my bed

Something of a perverse nightmare

That I never wished to find.

Nothing about it is treacherous

None of them act hateful.

They are my hidden inside self

Concealed ages ago in confusion.

So see what this makes me

And make me what you will.

Everything I ever did was real

Every letter I penned

Ending with a "Sincerely yours truly"

Even if I was nothing to you.

Can I let the past drift off into the depths of time

Or will it linger, whispering its curses in my ear

Until all the bits and pieces of me are plagued

By doubt and his horsemen of my cold empty chest.

That's just how it is, and it is who I became.

Whenever I think about the chance I have at happiness,

All I can feel is the hollow breeze passing through my chest,

Through the open cavity where I want to store my heart.

Every letter I wrote was a thought out to you

A prayer, a yearning, a sad attempt at hope.

Just one tiny possibility that we may dream the same dream

Where we can be together in a fantastical land

And I can have some semblance of confidence to

Push away the cowardice that keeps my name from you. 

I know that will never happen in this mundane time

But I can still go to sleep every night with a single thought

That I may be able to look into your eyes one day

Where I don't have to worry about waking up alone in the world.