In my dream we were at the lake again.

Consumed by the sunset’s red wake again.

The world in your eyes reflected the sky

but mine were opaque again,

they swallowed the light, then your eyes, and then you,

and I knew that I had made a mistake again.

The milky way stretched their glittering arms

and said that you weren’t mine to take again.

I was lost in this mirror without your gaze to guide me back to daybreak again.

But the stars didn’t want me any more than you did,

so I found myself jolting awake again.

When I wake up my mouth is dry again,

and I remember that it is July again.

with my blankets sweat damp and cooling on my skin

I wonder if I will cry again.

In the past, my dear phone would filter in blueish dawn

just to tell me that you said goodbye again

after I fell asleep, a victory for you,

until I was the first to say hi again.

Cruel instinct means that the morning’s first chime brings a joy that’s aborted

when it clicks that it’s not your awaited reply again.

The dust dances in light that sneaks past the curtain.

My room has turned into a sty again.

I can’t turn it on, that world we once shared, I’ll disconnect my shitty wifi again

That space, it feels empty even though it is crowded, and your absence I cannot deny again.

I can imagine you here, your shoulder to mine,

want my fingers to run up your thigh again.

But then I imagine the look on your LED-lit face

when you asked me to try and not lie again.

One minute, maybe two, and this world I forsake again.

my weak will cannot endure the pain of this ache again.

The stars stare on down and wonder out loud

I have never been fixed, could I break again?

I think of your smile and I think of your eyes

As the sky sees itself in the lake again.