treasure/trash, words

this time it was different

i knew they were all dead

we sat laughing and joking

but i remembered they had died

and i couldn’t make out there words as they looked at me

but their tone and mannerisms said they were making fun of me and i laughed knowing whatever they said was more than likely hilarious

as the thick viscous tar fell from their lips

and the skin around their eyes began to putrefy

just fall in quivering lumps onto the floor

i made no show of noticing

it was so nice to see them

hear their voices

even if i couldn’t make out the words

to be part of their unlife even for a brief moment

i think they knew i was out of phase, not quite in the same instance we shared

like static

flickering, humming just out of resonance

the living and the dead

we couldn’t exist on the same frequency

i felt that

like we would rip a hole in time and space if we did

so i didn’t speak

just listened

substituted what i imagined they were saying, snippets of previous conversations plugged in

and it was nice

jarring

but nice

and then i woke up to the pressure in my head and knew this was reality

this dimension of agony was the real world and i wanted five more minutes in the dream where even if i couldn’t understand the words they were said by long gone friends

instead i got this silence and pain

it isn’t exactly fair

but it is true

so alone i sit sipping coffee and wondering why i am still here

out of sync with a world that couldn’t care about me

when i could have stayed there with them, the ones who always loved me

dreams are the recycled garbage of your mind

well my trash is worth more than this treasure

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