I dreamt yesterday night that mom agreed to adopting a scruffy, white-and-black, abandoned kitten that happened to be wandering around our house.

Sometimes the kitten would lose its legs and grow them back so I would have the unpleasant, queasing job of removing legs that had died and shrivelled up from the cupboard and wherever else it had decided to shed them.

And I was worried because I didn’t know what kittens ate and I’d have to look it up on google later, but then later I saw the tiny kitten hunting and chasing a very scared looking panther in the hallway and I thought maybe it’d be alright.

it must be great to be a starfish
they don’t either go or stop
at the bottom of the ocean sea
all they do is plop

i have this reoccurring dream where it feels like i’ve never known unhappiness before in my life. like nothing’s bad ever happened to me and i wouldn’t even understand what that means.

and you’re always in them.

i dont know why, after so long that this should still happen. i go months without thinking about you, because why would i? and then, without any warning, you’re there in my dreams, and i don’t question it, i don’t remember you ever having left, there’s no reason why you ever would.

and we’re not lovers, we’re not friends, but the point isn’t to have those titles. we’re happy, we’re safe, we’re well, and nothing bad will ever happen to us.

and then i wake up and i don’t understand. i’m very happy with my life. i have cosmo, i have goals and accomplishments and loving, courageous people around me. 

but i wake up and i can’t pretend it feels like anything but loss. 

why does it always have to be you?

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jinryu recently said that he was able to conquer his inner demons because that’s a wisdom that comes with age. it never occurred to me before that those were things you could conquer. i thought they were just a part of you that you would always have to live with or fight. or you could hope to forget.

my own dreams betray me.

He is all comforting shoulders and strong arms around me. Snow-soft kisses and understanding eyes.

But I am not so concrete. What I wanted were his words.

I want to see them fluttering under your breath and hiding in your hair. I want to find them under the couch or in your gaping wallet, my currency of choice. I want to snatch them from the whisper trail of passing birds, to pull them from the open sky with my greedy fists and show you - ”These! These … Do you have them? Where are yours? 

Will you give me your words?”