A lesson in dreaming

I was not awake.

I was a sleeping memory of my former self.

I took you in, shielded you from my darker days, pulled you close and let you shine.

But now my life is a storm in the distance, a howling thing that I do not recognize.

Beguiled by that gorgeous face, entranced by your rougher skin,

So much rougher than my own.

I tried to let you go and failed a thousand times.

Now, when I hear the thunder, I know not to be afraid.

The storm will pass as it always does. 

You will pass as you always do,

From my arms and into their's.

A lightening rod for attention.

I was not awake when I met you.

I will never sleep again.