I Don't Dream

 I don't dream, I have nightmares. It's ironic how Tim Burton made nightmares seem so utterly alluring and wynorrific yet mine only consist of mundane horrors that wreck havoc in my brain. In my dreams, you're leaving me and I'm doing nothing to stop you. Maybe it's my pride or it's just the mere fact that I've watched so many people walk out of my life that you leaving isn't a surprise to me. I'm scared though and I'm trying to make sense of everything you said...where I went wrong....did I do something wrong? I was happy just three days ago so what happened? You?.....I want to say 'you' happened. You happened and flipped my world into a topsy-turvy of Alice in wonderland or rather horrorland?. In my dream, you look back and expect me to shed tears but I'm blankly staring at you...if you wanted to, you would right? If you wanted to stay, you would but that's not the case and you're leaving. I wake up in cold sweat and my hands are shaking, the same one you held the other day, the other day when everything seemed too good to be true. It's just a nightmare, I remind myself. It's just —its just -its just -its just...until I've gaslighted myself to believe it true. I realise I'm sad again, for no reason or perhaps something old triggered it, I don't know but I would very much like to lie down and rot until these bones are the only remains of me.