My dreams are not soft things
They do not whisper or drift
They crash into me
Like memory
Like loss I never earned but still carry

I see faces I’ve never touched
Eyes that look through me like they’ve known me for lifetimes
Hands that reach
Just as I begin to fall

I wake with stories still unfolding
Mouth half-formed around names that vanish
Chest aching with love
for people I’ve never met outside my sleep

Sometimes I lie still
Eyes open
But not here
Not ready to belong to this body
this room
this gravity

Reality waits
with its empty inboxes and worn-out clocks
It doesn’t ask if I’m okay
It just goes on
as if I didn’t just leave a world that almost felt like home

But I keep waking
Even when it hurts
Even when the dream begs me to stay
Because somewhere in the quiet ache of morning
There’s a sliver of light
A whisper that maybe
what I dream
is a map
not a mistake

And maybe one day
I’ll follow it back
not to sleep
but to something real
that finally feels
like dreaming with my eyes open