There are framed portraits of you hanging on the back of my eye lids. I don’t know if you sleepwalk, but every night I see you walking in my sleep. Where is it you’re off to in such a hurry? I’m not asking you to stop or slow down, but would you be willing to take me with you?
I sleep with the lights turned on, there’s no monster hiding beneath my bed, and still my spine can’t help but shudder. I’m afraid of letting you go, I’m afraid of holding you too tight. I’m afraid of being afraid of being afraid. Tell me, if I stood shoulder to shoulder with courage, would anyone mistake us for brothers?
Or would everyone laugh and call me the apple that fell way off the tree the apple that never belonged to the tree?
Who knows…maybe my core is rotting, maybe I’m dying, or maybe living can be downright exhausting. I’ve got a fake laugh that no one believes, and a real smile that no one sees. Sometimes family feels so strange, and sometimes strangers feel home sweet home. Arguments are impossible to forget, wounds don’t get healed in the dark, and love is richer than wine.
So if I pour two tall glasses, will you join me for a drink?
Look, I know what it’s like to be thirsty. My mouth is as dry as my heart. The taste of you lingers drowsy on my bedtime tongue, and sticks to my gums, like popcorn, as you waltz on the back of my eyes. Take me with you, take me.
I miss you so much. Even when I’m sleeping.