A dream

This was something
framed in my mind,
and we waited,
to see it someday.

It was a dream I had.
That will not come true
with you.

I always wanted endless
possibilities like ocean paths
clear in all directions.
And one branch leading to another.

I thought you were the same.

But instead I heard the rain
pouring against the glass,
reminding me that this
will not last.

The dream is the only thing
which hurts.
Because I know you were the worst,
the way you began to hurt me
so naturally, like it was just
your nature.

It was your nature.
And that’s why the rain tore us
apart.
I’m not meant to shatter.
And stand hoping for better.
Waiting for something.

I’ve done that before.
I won’t do that anymore.

But that dream, in my mind
it still gleams, reminding me,
of what I had once decided,
what I had once felt,
before the sun made it clear,
that dream would never come near.

That dream will stay away,
just like all the others that decayed.

Now I will frame something
completely new, and it won’t have
anything to do, with you.

It’s still sad to know that old frame
will hang empty, with nothing inside.
Where there used to hang a big, beautiful, painting.
The nicest I had seen.