and sometimes i wonder if we could be. “sleep on it” i tell myself, and i use memories of you as my mattress and i toss and turn, your voice as my pillow. maybe if i flip it over to the cool side memories of you will subside, split in two, and all the good times will rock me to sleep as i wake to remember why we cannot be. but instead, i wake up having not slept on anything but springs in the winter.
calm down it’s not even about you. it’s my failure to recognize myself and my situation. dragging you along in a dream world where a’s get themselves and bills walk with two legs from where they came. bullshit. look at yourself. become yourself and get out of your nightmarish fantasy you’ve created with room for you alone.