the writing of kuypers
2001-04-09 14:04:36 (UTC)

I Dreamt About You Last Night

I Dreamt About You Last Night

"I dreamt about you last night
and I fell out of bed twice
you can pin and mount me
like a butterfly"
- Steven M.

I dreamt about you last night.
I called you on the phone
even though you passed away
over four weeks ago now.
I don't know why I called, I
don't know what I was hoping for,
but when you answered your phone
I said, "Dave?"
You said, "Yes."
And I asked, "How are you?"
You said, "Fine."
And I asked, "You're not dead?"
You said, "No."
"But I just told someone
you passed away a month ago."
"Oh," you said, "Don't worry.
I'll take care of it."
And you sounded so -
so relaxed. So peaceful.

They say that dreams are your
chance to think over the things
unresolved from your day. And
I keep dreaming about you.
Don't I think about you enough?

You're the one that left me.
Why are you coming back,
at night, when I let my defenses
down, slipping in through my
window and working your way
into my dreams?

I dreamt about you last night.
We were sitting together,
about to go out for the evening.
You were wearing a black
t-shirt and black jeans.
We were running late, and you
were angry. "I wanted to wear
this, but I wanted to put more
black on - I wanted to wear my
black vest and my black jacket."
You know, I thought it was
always funny, how much you cared
about the clothes you wore.
So I said, "But Dave, you look
fantastic in your jeans and
t-shirt." And you smiled at me
and kissed me.

I wish I could have told you
more in life how good you looked.
I'm sorry, Dave. I'm so sorry.
I wish in life I could have told
you the things you wanted to hear.

I saw you today. You were in a
black car and you were wearing
dark sunglasses. He could have
been you, if I closed my eyes
and squinted just slightly. You pulled
up in the lane next to me as I
was driving to my sister's house.
You were about to turn right and
I watched you look at the oncoming
traffic, waiting for your chance to
leave me again.

Let me think that it was you,
driving, living. Let me think that
you're just ignoring me. Then
I can be angry with you.

I dreamt about you last night.
I was on a cruise ship, and you
were working as a waiter. You wore
one of those silly short jackets
for your uniform. It was a sea blue.
And every time I thought I saw you
you would turn away to do your
job. All I ever caught were fleeting
glimpses of you, walking away.

All I keep thinking is that
my days are finally free of you
but they're not. I keep thinking
of you. And it isn't enough.
I still can't escape you at night.