Myself, Writing

Dreaming

By Jemal Y

I tried to hold on, I really did.  Waking up, and running here to this page only showed me something I knew quite well.  The blank white space matching the insides of my brain.  The thoughts as empty as the dreams I had for my future.  I wanted what I saw to be real, to be put down and documented so I can say it existed but instead I sit here, attempting to grab sunlight with my hand and finding it fruitless.

I see flashes of smiles and one shot of me crying.  About what?  I dont know, except the tears came from deep within, feeding of the years of stored up sadness.

Just small flashes of tears and smiles.  Kind of like my past.  Nothing makes sense except that perhaps I have dreamt all my life. 

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