I don’t want to read between lines anymore

In my dreams

The photograph in front of me

Is flooded with the same light

As the room I’m in now

The people in it

Don’t make me doubt anymore

Eyes are only kind

Kind, kind

And you lift an arm slightly

Just for me

And say

There’s room for you here.


  • Clara

    This makes me think of a mirror image almost, an alternative universe, where what you wish for, to belong and accepted, is happening. But maybe it isn't where you are now.


  • dusk arising

    This is so similar to my thoughts of the afterlife. A place of unconditional love.

    Don't misunderstand me though, I have no death wish nor do i see one in your writing.

    A desire to be accepted for what you are, unconditionally. Hard to find outside of a mother's love.

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