the only dream you've ever had
is the one in which you leave
everything you've ever called your own,
to have nothing left of it anymore,
in search of days
you wouldn't want to leave from
and let the days presently
bleed into each other
until they leave
no room to just be,
only harbour the anticipation of departure.
the only people you choose to love
are vagabonds
destined to leave
but you're foolish
and you never learn,
you hold onto them until
you find yourself
trapped inside a prison
made out of blood and bones
of your own desires.
the only way for you to break out
is to shed off your skin
and everything it could've been,
and leave it there lying
frozen in time,
because the only dream you've ever had
is the one in which
you
leave.