Clean Preview 2: The Dream

Although it is the middle of the night, sleep continues to evade me. I lay in wait for its blissful rush and the even sweeter surrender that fills my body and mind as I close my eyes. The faults in my stars are so bright they almost blind me. It's filled with meaning and the voidness of life. Is this any way to live? Why does the emptiness fill up every corner and echo out into the room like the owl's cry in the dead of night.

I long to dream of him this night...How his skin is as white as his virtue and as pure as the first fallen snow of winter. I long to dream of his scent, like fresh orchids in the spring....and how his cheeks become the colour of a fresh peach when he's embarrassed. Why does he fill my head so? Why is he consuming my waking life and now my dreams? Each night I toss and turn, my body aching for his embrace. Humming one of his lyrical wonders, I'm able to drift into the waves of sleep.

I'm carried far away into a land that is all my own. Aren't dreams a wonder? They hold the key to everything, yet entice you with empty meaning. With dreams, you walk a fine line; the lines of madness and inspiration. There are often times when I think that no line can divide the two. 

His face swims before my eyes. Beneath my eyelids, I cannot help but smile. It's difficult to, as I know he is not here laying beside me. I lay my head on a stack of pillows beside me and pretend it is him as my dreams unfold. I cannot allow my tears to permeate this night, for I will surely drown in them.

The day is overcast and grey. The imagery is startling, but I press on. Even in these dreams, I'm able to lie to myself. I can't help but laugh; it's not a laugh of joy, but one of irony. Ah, the things I do to myself. It's hard to believe that so much can dwell within one person. Do others experience life as I do? Please God, grant me a droplet of your wisdom so that I can begin to understand.

The wind is cool against my skin and I allow my worry to slip away, much how like the minutes that fill an hour do. The empty seconds of the dream leave me struggling to understand what I'm doing here. The streets are upside down. Or am I? The people have blank faces and pass me on the streets. They speak to each other in a language I don't understand. An alien feeling washes over me. I am an outsider. I continue to walk, seeing the haunting remains of a once beautiful city. 

Destroyed my anger, hatred, greed and misunderstandings. The beauty that humans can create destroyed by the primal need to conquer and destroy all that disagrees. Why do humans have such dual nature? 

Blood stains the bricks of the old buildings and ancient artwork that stares out sadly from their stone prisons never fail to captivate me. I know how you feel, beautiful creatures. I stare out from my own tired prison, longing to clean in the sun like the beautiful people that gaze upon me do. Some are moved by my uniqueness and others are repulsed by the sight of me. No matter the reaction, I take it to heart. More often than not, I allow the negative to consume the positive and I'm filled with the burning feeling of wanting to cease my existence. Where do I fit into this world? 

The flames of the street lamps light my way as the sun dissolves into the midnight blue of the sky and the moon, gleeful and smug, slides by to take her position in the sky. There is an undefinable emotion  that has taken root in me. It feels both good and bad. I'm searching for him, despite not being able to clearly see through the dark. I'm blinded by my greedy desires. I'm trying so hard to have you notice me. 

You are everywhere and nowhere at all. I'm wearing a push-up bra, my 38Ds are riding high and proud. I'm flaunting my assets, hoping for a glance from you. My hips sway with the wind and a belt accents my hourglass frame. The scar tissue that covers m body requires and art deco piece in this light and I'm content with its appearance. My eyelashes fo on for miles, like the open sea; My hazel eyes are framed by the darkest of charcoals and the palest of purples. My lips are painted the colour of ripe raspberries. All this for you.As you are blind to me, I am blind to the truth. 

Together we are lost in a reality that neither of us can see. Will this hurt us or strengthen us? I cannot sustain your attention in this way, for it is not truly me. I need you to see all of me and the decide for yourself. I could never deceive you, my precious angel. I want you to have everything...and nothing. As time drifts away, I strip away that colours that make me something I am not. I rip off the clothes that can only be used as a disguise. 

Here I stand, naked and clean for you. I cup my breasts in my hands and my teeth sink into my bottom lip in nervousness. My tattoos colour me, exposing all my loves, passions and lies. I've put my trust in you, more than anyone I've ever done before. 

There is only one thing you need to know. It is all for you and you alone. I would rather die the most painful, violent and bloody death than betray you. My adoration is complete and filling. You catch my eye and for a moment we are frozen in time  You are naked, exposing yourself to me  like you've never done with another before. I can see you clearly and all my preconceived notions are washed away. My eyes are open and I can clearly see you for the first time and I'm still entranced by what I see. How could you possibly be human? How could someone like you ever see me? 

We've been numbed by societies and ideas of relationships, limiting ourselves, all the while thinking that we are free. The only time I feel weightless and unchained is with you. You reach for me, while my cheeks glow with embarrassment. I cannot believe that you reached for me.

I'm caught up in the moment, wanting to know every inch of you. Wanting to know of your dreams and your failures. I want to be numb to the reality that this might not end well. I don't want to be remembered as a Romeo and Juliet tragedy. Endings like that should be saved for the stage, not real life. 

Our lust smothers us, never allowing our lungs to expand. If I am to suffocate on this passion, I am glad that I will go out with you. I'm gripping him with all the strength I possess, yet he is slipping away from me. I scream his name until the tears that ran down my cheeks have dried. I cannot live without him; just as I cannot live without the sun and air. His hand slips from mine and without a second thought, I jump.

We wrap our arms around one another, burying our faces in the shoulders of the other and brace for the impact of what we've done. If I could, I would sacrifice myself so that the glow of his beauty could continue to light even the darkest corners of the world. I kiss him one last time. Our lips collide with the force of a monsoon and a passion that rivals only lightening in its intensity.

When I awake the next morning it is to the perils of the sun's innermost torment and a tear stained pillow. In this moments, I feel like such a child. A little girl who's heart is so filled without that it cannot beat as it should. Like the spring flowers, my heart blooms when I think of him. And still, like a child, I foolishly bestow such greatness upon the beauty that I'm filled with. Perhaps I am nothing more than a fool.

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