And there was no solution and I've been awake all day

I had a dream about you today. A broad daylight dream, from which I woke with a start. There was no confusion about what it was though; you had been concerned and so I knew it was not real. You asked when I was leaving and I told you that I was already gone. I had a heart, tied to a chain, wrapped around my wrist and hooked on a broken branch so that I dangled with my feet just above the ground, squinting down and trying desperately to read the words you had scribbled amongst the crumbling roots.

I lie on one side as though you are still here, reading aloud and being unashamedly obscure. My purple sheets stained red with royalty, two colours too old to blend.

I am not haunted by what happened. I am haunted by a past that never came about. I am dwelling endlessly and aimlessly in what was and whatmighthavebeen.

But you are the then and even I do not hate myself enough to allow into my now. I may gnaw for years to come on that obstinate chain, but when I and my leaded heart drop to the ground I will trample your words with my bare feet, scramble the letters, scoop them up and carry them home like a stray. Someday, though it may not be soon, I will turn your bitter misery into art.