Masterpiece.

I woke up in the morning, and I was speechless.

This night, I had a dream.

I was a painter,

trying to give my ending life

some sense,

by painting a masterpiece.

My bones were visible

and I was barely standing,

the look in my eyes got heavier

with every breath I took.

The room was beautiful

black walls with framed poetry

hanging on them,

paint and brushes,

ruined canvases

all over the place.

Only a lightbulb would

give me some light,

if it wasn't for windows

letting moonshine in.

In this dream,

I was sitting in a corner,

on a broken chair.

Afraid to move,

next to vinyls

no one listened to,

watching my dying,

already rotting self,

holding onto this one painting.

I didn't see it, though

and that reminded me

of my life too well.

Of those moments,

when my breathing gets faster

with no reason,

when I cannot stay calm,

and my heart is aching

for something I don't even know,

which is not to come.

My wiew changed,

when she looked at me,

my own eyes got wet

from the pain in her stare.

She nodded her head

in the direction of painting,

finally allowing me

to take a look,

as she walked towards the window,

jumping down from it.

I stood up shaking,

my knees were weak,

my eyes hurt,

but the moment I could

finally see it,

I woke up.

Author's Note

Go ahead and tell me what you think.
Also, what about the concept? There are some dreams I could describe as well.

Reviews

[GalaxyGhost]

I like how the broken chair seems to reflect the brokenness of the narrator. At least it's how I saw it. I think this is well done for its metaphor and imagery.

[sheandherself]

I haven't actually thought about that, wow. Great interpretation, thank you! xx

[GalaxyGhost]

You're welcome

[kyam]

Very nice, I love the way you took us through the whole dream and then woke up...Brilliant....Kyam

[Coyote Poetry]

A very interesting dream. I liked the contact and the action in the dream. Dreams are wake-up calls to give attention to somethings. Painting, suicide and eye contact. Maybe we are not paying enough attention to something. Thank you for sharing the poetry and the dream.
Coyote

[sheandherself]

Thank you for thinking about it like that.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome dear Poet.

[David Scott]

It is fun to think about the interpretations of one's dreams. We learn as much from the recollection and framework as we do from the dream itself I think.
Here, you transposed the experience into a work of inspirational poetry. Well done.

[sheandherself]

I know, right? Seems like dreams are windows in our mind sometimes to me.
Also, thank you for kind words. xx