dreaming of you feels like catching a beautiful butterfly with a net, encapsulating the fleeting nature of reminiscence. i relive the nostalgic comfort that i’ve missed with mind trickery. flashes, of pulling you with clasped palms, interlocked fingers firm and grounded with a sense of familiarity. it is a tender afternoon with bright rays seeping into corridors, casting warm shadows. nature shrouds our surroundings, green tendrils creeping and stretching casually across wall. i feel like a child again, lips uncontrollably curling upwards, cheeks burning, emanating, radiating with a lightness from within. laughter bubbles and echoes along long walkways, almost lifelike. i chatter about things off the top of my mind, relish in the comfort that i can be unapologetically, genuinely, just be. with you, i feel the most me.
i cling onto these images, piece them together carefully as though they are real memories, yearning to feel like i’m being swept off my feet again. i know it is all made-up wishes. i lay in bed, confused, heart aching with want. there is a certain emptiness that i’ve chosen to bury, uncovered during a fever dream.