i'm not your future hope nor your guilty past

years ago i dreamnt i was drifting in open space.
bubbles whizzed past me that were full of warm colours.
i couldn't take the loneliness and grabbed a golden one in the shape of pillow and squeezed it tightly to myself.

the warmth of it filled me with contentment, yet as i squeezed harder to bring it closer to me it split and loosened from my embrace.
I watched it reform and speed away from view.

last night i dreamnt i lived eons, so many experiences overlapping one another until all i could see was a hyperspeed blur of everything ever or to be conceived.
when i woke, the world felt alien and as i braced for the dark cold winter morning i only held onto one hope to keep my shaking legs moving forward.

that bubble i tried to hold onto so tightly could have been any number of things but i'd like to think it had many faces.

i'd like to think the journey last night held a promising future but it could have been brought on from hard living from bad influences.

and now there's a new shape taking form and i can't tell if my future is in the past or if it's waiting right in front of me.
i dont know if i can bring myself to squeeze harder one last time or float on, until the void pounds so hard against my window that this weak heart gives in to the outstretched arms of a peace i was too blind to ever appreciate.




tonight, i'll repeat your name in my head. is it a ghost's name that drives me insane or an angels? too soon to tell.