17 Feb 2008
In this dream I was a corpse on an autopsy bench, they were taking my body apart.
Removing my organs, dissecting carefully and slowly, suddenly they stopped at my heart.
They observed with curiosity and screamed get a biopsy, they believed my heart was infected.
They knifed my heart from my chest and removed it best as they could placing it upon the bench.
They looked it over and found that up closer it was clear it was riddled with cancer.
As they debated the cause I awakened a hollow corpse and proceded to answer their questions.
In my life up to my death; many lost loves I'd kept, many moments of love turned sour had invaded
My reasoning somehow seemed to make sense to them and on my behalf it took little persuading.
In the next part of my dream I was suddenly beside you, still empty but holding my heart in my palms
You said what have you there and I said like you've ever cared It's just what I've been bearing the whole time.
You asked did I die from a broken heart like a fairytale story gone wry or a bad move script line.
I looked into your eyes they were almost as black as mine and retorted broken ain't right.
I spent so much of my life letting carcinogens attend to what I thought was the cure for my aching.
You said well it's not my fault you're like this and I said well ignorance is bliss. Never the less you're truly mistaken.
I took my dripping blood lump of heart back to the surgeons and said well it's no good to me now.
They said well rest in peace and we'll try at least to let time have it's way and heal your heart
I lay myself down and softly spoke all the best, I've let years try and mend the damage done.
The last part of the dream I recall before waking was the sound of the doctors joking how I thought that you were the one.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
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