Bad Dream-Spoken Word


I don’t know how to start this poem. But I know that it has to be started in order to be finished and for me to go to sleep… I probably won’t go to sleep.


The thoughts in my head are crashing against my skull and it sounds kind of like a hurricane. I’m drowning.


Sleep is not an option. I’m too afraid that when I close my eyes, the one thing that I really want in life will be there, you, you will be there.


Somehow you’re both a nightmare and the one I want to comfort me when I wake up. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but dreams never make any sense when you wake up, do they love?

I’m still waiting for the day that I wake up from you.


But I’m not sure that I want the last nine years of my life rewritten. Over half my story is in your handwriting, but I’d like to think that it wasn’t a mistake. But there are days when I go to erase you only to realize you’re written in pen.


Entire years ink-stained with memories of children who are just faded polaroids of us, I can shake the pictures all I want, but they never get any clearer.


I don’t want to forget you even though I feel like you’ve already forgotten me. Because me without you is not some cliche like peanut butter without jelly or yin without yang. Me without you is just me.


And I have my hands outstretched in the ocean trying to contain water that is both in my hands and everywhere else at the exact same time.


You are impossible, you know. A paradox is defined as something that both is and isn’t simultaneously. You are both here and not here simultaneously.


Tell me, if a girl falls and you’re no longer there to hear her, does it mean that she’s really in love with you? I heard somewhere that if you fall in love seven times, the eighth person is your soulmate. Tell me, what exactly happens when you’ve fallen in and out of love seven times with the exact same person.


Love makes the acid on your tongue taste like an apple picked out of the Garden of Eden. And let me tell you sin has never tasted more like heaven. But I’m pretty sure this is how Rihanna loves Chris Brown, how an addict loves their addiction. See, the distance feels like fists and the weeks pile up like bruises. You are one wound that time will never heal.


And withdrawals are not treating me too well. I’m still waiting for the day that you’re completely out of my system.


I’m still waiting for the day that I wake up from you...


[audio link coming soon]



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