I wake from dreams that are dripping with honey,
It oozes out from my fingertips,
It slowly runs down my arms to pool on the sheets,
The puddle slowly grows until it is big enough to begin to drown.
The honey fills my lungs,
And I do not know how to breathe without it,
Without the slow pull of honey keeping my lungs stuck in place,
When I wake up there are tears running down my face,
Because what is a dream to me if not just,
A moment of longing prolonged until time stretches on into the horizon,
Something that I cannot have,
That I have left behind,
Comes back to haunt me with what could have been,
That should have been.
In my waking moments, I have been getting better.
Yet in my sleeping moments, all I see is you.
For just one moment prolonged I get to see you as your ideal form,
Just serving to remind me of what I cannot attain.
For just one moment I get to remain happy,
Until my waking moments remind me of reality.
I do not know whether it is reality or the honey-soaked dreams that are worse.