Nina Brav

Writer, Blogger, Entrepreneur

15

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,

shocked

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,

apparently, 

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

my cheek.

A scab, it seems, I picked raw

--aching, bleeding, fresh,

like when I was 15.