You appeared in my dream last night--
A dusty memory that shocked me to my core.
You smiled your devilish grin and,
suddenly, I was 15.
Your slimy words slithered into me,
"Great to see you..." they hissed,
"Can I see you again before I leave?"
The black pit rolling around in my stomach got bigger
"Sure," I managed.
--In fell my lungs.
After I walked away,
from having seen you
for the first time in so long,
I cried. Well, dream me cried.
My dream self mourned for the broken-
hearted youth you left behind
so many years ago
in your trail of destruction.
The poor young girl who,
still lives inside me--
15, weak, and broken.
She grips her insecurities
like an even younger me
might've gripped my stuffed dog's paw.
I woke up.
It was a dream, of course I woke up.
But the black pit never subsided
and my mind couldn't stop kept lingering
on the his playful smile
and his gentle touch that burned
A scab, it seems, I picked raw
--aching, bleeding, fresh,
like when I was 15.