Waking up

Sometimes you come to my dreams, even if I don't want to dream about you, and you seem as real as the pages I write because of you. When less expected you come to steal the warmth of my sheets, your eyes fixed in my as if you were looking for a word, maybe a caress able to show my hidden feelings. Luck and misfortune to see you fade when I'm already defeated by sincerity and my hands are ready to feel your skin. What a terrible fate couldn't be able to have you even in my dreams.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and the sweet tone of your voice calls me from the dark night. When I finally decide to follow you, you are taken by the same breeze fading the ecco of my pleas. Desperation invade me when I can't reach you, even feeling you closer that you have ever be, maybe that you'll ever be. Your silouette appears at last between the shadows after seeking you in complete darkness for what seemed hours, but I wake up with the first light of the morning starting to enter through the window.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and I have to suffer a terrible wait to know the taste of your being. But even though I'm caught by your arms, I think when that happens the pain is worse. By giving me entirely to your caress, even suspecting that you are just a fantasy, the waking brings the pain of your absence that increases when I feel in my sheets the smell of your skin, as if you really were here.

Sometimes you come to my dreams and I don't know what's more difficult to bare: that it's you or it's only a dream.

Hipnotizame - Fobia