If only tears could bring me to sleep. If the only comfort I once seeked could be found on the dreams that now were clouded by vagueness and absurdities. Of dark roads, long paths and people hanging and jumping on cliffs. And I hoped that someone who's love compared to maternal affection could have saved them as I watch them fall down on shallow waters of a stream.
If only my dreams wouldn't leave me feeling lost. And traveling alone would not bring me fear. And asking directions and trusting strangers would be comforting, then I could've end each nights with a relief.
Relief. When I imagine someone laughs as I bleed. When I am soaked in misery while someone enjoys every minute I drown myself in the fear that some mutualities only exist on my mind. That I could use some little sensitivity, that I couldn't do such when I am on the same shoe. Yes. I need to breathe out from that.
If only metals and clinking of plates bring my sanity and soberness like it used to. If only the scent of humidity and sweat shoot my hormones up. If only my body can catch up with my demands like before, then maybe I could save a little pride and strengthen my wounded ego a little.
If only I could easily go to sleep, dream a good dream, travel with a weary but contented heart and end each day with much respect to oneself and peaceful mind, then maybe..
Just maybe..
I would not seek for your love.
Labels: dreams, heart, life, relationship, self