DREAM & its Fantasists

I endure a dream every night. I discern a dream every night. Sometimes its you, sometimes it’s nothing. I feels its a dream only when I dream of you, I feel its a dream only when I’m with you. I still dream of us looking at the stars at every night’s third hour and I feel it our old selves sharing thoughts at exactly the same hour. Pointing at the stars and spotting our past selves there, but then I wake uo and realise- its only a dream. Its only a fantasy and we are its fantasists. Or maybe its just me. We were always meant to be together- that’s what my heart said, we’re not- that’s what my mind said. My heart and brain were pastly at a war, my heart saying its our Bosoms which deserve to be one. But no, its my broken soul giving a voice- ‘You’re too incapable of finding yourself some one else’. 

I believe, hearts are just meant to be broken… Hearts are meant to be buried. Burying us with itself, burying us with everything we emitted as love. Not because the one you loved is the only one responsible for abandoning, not because you wanted your story to die. Only because your story had to be contrasting. 



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