He was a close stranger. A phantom in my heart. I fell for an unknown ghost and now he haunts my dreams. In my dreams though, he is not a spirit, but a man with flesh and feeling; a reality that never came to be. I reached out to grasp his hand and nothing reached back. Outside of REM we were nothing. We felt nothing. In my daydreams, he was there, sitting in the back of my skull with a smirk like he had won something. It was as if he was watching a movie of my emotional responses and laughing at them like a comedy. I became taffy in his apparitional clutch; unable to move or think. Much like a rag-doll, I lay at his bedside, waiting to be played with. But he would never pick me up. How could he, a nebulous creature, ever be capable of fulfilling my dreams? Someone who is stuck between worlds and unable to free himself, could never have the freedom to love a real woman.
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Author:
Leya Virago (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 5th, 2018 18:19
- Comment from author about the poem: I realize this site is more of a poetry site, but I really value peoples input and time. I wrote this short story/poetic dialogue in the spirit of the season. Please read and comment on this. Let me know what you think. If you have suggestions for better adjectives, adverbs and descriptive words, that would be much appreciated! I am currently working on improving my ability to create images with my words. Help a sister out! Thanks y'all!
- Category: Short story
- Views: 46
Offline)
Comments2
a fantastic piece.
Your comment is much appreciated!
Impressive and haunting write. I enjoyed it.
"How could he, a nebulous creature, ever be capable of fulfilling my dreams?"
How about:
"How could a nebulous creature; a wraith, ever be capable of fulfilling my dreams?"
Great read! 🙂
ooooo thanks for the tip! I like that! And thanks for the comments. I am glad you read it.
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