Last night I had a dream, and you had called me just to talk, and I was sitting outside of some unfamiliar house that was supposed to be mine. It had been a very, very long time in the dream as well, and I cherished every second like I would. And you were patience, but there was so much noise on my end, and although you were all that I wanted, I heard you fading away, I could not get far enough from my own life to be present for you like I always wished to.
A couple of nights ago when I was out, I was asked if you were real, I never answered in fear of having to explain seeing your insides. (I must have replied with awkwardly drinking from his beer glass.)
There were no cords and wires! I touched a beating heart, and believe me there was blood and there were guts. Organs, your wind chest, and your windpipe, and you always played our songs, and sung along in your car, there was never a dull moment, even your silence was breathtakingly beautiful to me.
"I am not something
more like the absence of something"
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