Standing on the ledge of consciousness
in the space between the dreams,
I saw the figure of a man
whose eyes were like the beams
of headlights shining in the rain.
He smiled at me, a melancholy grin,
as though he knew my thoughts and dreams
and how they wore me thin.
“What do you want?”
was my plaintive cry
but still he would not speak.
“Can I change nothing that I’ve done?”
He replied, “Regret will make you weak.”
Tears slipped then from my eyes, turning to diamonds
as they fell, “It’s just so hard to keep up the lie.”
He sighed and softly caressed my cheek,
“For those we love we must sometimes die.
Not everything is simple,
as you humans would believe.
Sometimes your dreams must take a hit-
it’s worth it, for some, to grieve.”
He raised my chin and looked at me,
used his sleeve to dry my tears.
“Don’t fret, little dreamer, the pain accompanies a gift-
to love someone with all your heart as I’ve loved you for years.”
He bent to kiss me upon the head;
I blinked once, and was alone,
with just his words to comfort me-
and the memory of how his eyes shone.
I awoke in early morning,
and somehow I just knew:
The bad times I’d endure
could never taint my love for you.
I guess you could say, "This is your brain on Gaiman." Too much thinking, too much Neil Gaiman, and not enough sleep before Bio class. :P