The Dream That Arrives Too Early
am the thought
that forgets its own ending
mid-sentence
like a candle
learning the shape of darkness
before it learns to burn.
I arrive softly
uninvited by sleep
wearing your name
like a borrowed coat
and still
I don’t fit in it.
In the theater of your mind
I take my place too early
miss my cue
watch the curtain fall
on a stage
I never got to stand on.
Even hope looks at me
and says “not today”
as if I am a letter
addressed to a future
that keeps returning me
unopened.
So I fold myself
into quieter things
the pause before a breath
the space between heartbeats
the almost
that never becomes anything.
And still
I exist.
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