Can You Dream?

‘Just don’t open them yet, please.’

I stood there listening to his every word

He begged me with a tone of seriousness that must be followed

I waited for the longest time

Hearing him move around

Whispering words to himself

And repeating ‘one second’ between two minute intervals

I felt like the room was closing in and heat was dancing around

Then he held me

‘Alright, stand right here.’

Then I heard him walk to my side

‘Okay, open your eyes.’

And there they sat

Tied to wooden chairs in an empty cabin

With fear in their eyes

That was one of a kind

But mimicked the other

With tears glazing their cheeks

Painting them like cheap dolls

‘Do you like?’

He held my hand

I refuse to answer his question with words

But through a kiss

I stopped midway and gave him a smile with my eyes

And walked away to admire my toys

I took off my jacket and placed it in the corner of the room

Then I put my hair in one

I walked in front of them and I sat down

I looked back and River leaned against the wall

Like a parent watching their child

Then I looked back at them in fascination

‘River, what did they do?’

He didn’t answer

I looked at the cave the bone in her neck created

Looked original

Unlike

Their eyes

‘River?’

He brought them here

But he didn’t even want to tell me why

‘They killed their two kids.’

I admired her neck once again

And imagined what it would feel like in my hand if I broke it