you’d lie awake in your bed at 4am
night after night
sleeping a tormented sleep filled with repetitive dreams, a tiring dance for the mind
where you’d play the same thoughts all over again, the same words, the same faces
afraid to forget
afraid of not being able to remember why you are doing any of this
things we call “life” are never too far away from our heart
and you’d remember the beautiful Flinders rose blossoming that warm night
sometime last July.
(as soon as you’d pick it, it would die)
you feel that as soon as you let go you’ll die too
and be nothing again.
heimdimension 