Prose and Poetry for Pain

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I Was at the Backseat, Looking at You

Last week I had this dream. We were about to meet.

You came in a green car with your brother; I, with someone I don’t even know.

You were wearing a blue polo. Your hair, clean-cut.

I wanted to be in the front seat, with you, but I decided to be in the backseat to get to know your brother.

You turned your head, to look at me and smile. Our stare lingered for seconds.

You continued driving while I was at the backseat, looking at you.

I know I wasn’t there to hold your hand or put my head on your shoulders.

It was enough.

At the backseat, looking at you was more than I can ever hope for.

But as I said, it was just a dream

And dreams end.

When I woke up

I realized I should have been there with you

Beside you.

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