Old Dreams

I remember old dreams
They live in me like a childhood home
Revisiting occasionally
Many life events changing me between visits
Until both the child and the home
Are unrecognizable
And I didn’t know dreams could change
After all they are just memories
Still images trapped in my head
Memories of restless nights
Yet, somehow, they’ve grown
And they inspect me closely for cracks
And they make useless promises
“If I’d stayed, I’d have fixed that
But the holes they left in my walls
Were simply painted over – I feel them
And I’m grateful they’ve moved out
And they’re grateful, too
But that doesn’t prevent the heartache
And questions of what might have been

Enjoy my writing? Buy me a coffee 🙂

Photo by Abbilyn Zavgorodniaia on Unsplash

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