My Beautiful Messy Mind
How do I miss a face
I’ve barely seen—
just photographs,
never flesh,
yet I know her
like a dream that refuses
to stay asleep.
I once killed the art of dreaming.
Nightmares came hungry,
intentional,
sharp with teeth.
I starved them of my mind
until silence swallowed the night.
But tonight a spark slips through.
Impulsive.
And for a heartbeat
I am happy.
I deserve this—
the glimpse of her,
unspoiled.
My dreams haven’t touched her yet.
Let them stay blind.
I won’t feed the dark.
I imagine it cowering,
still on guard,
waiting for a job
I never asked it to do.
So why do I miss
the photos of someone
I’ve never met?
Because beauty moves closer
every time I look.
Because she notices,
thinks the same,
and distance can’t keep
what’s already inevitable.
Tonight I bar the nightmare’s door.
Tomorrow I open my heart.
We both deserve love.
love already knows.
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