Summer Dream

1

I woke up in a room of a house that was on a farm land.
I don't remember where I was the night before or where I have been for the past 12 years.
It was a room that I did not recognize, but it felt like home.
The furniture was old and it had a window that had the view of the back of the house.
The view was a big tree with a swing and behind it was a field of corn crops.
I sat on my bed wondering where I was for a few minutes and decided to get up and go downstairs to see what else I can find...

There were two people in the breakfast room.
They appeared to be in their late 60s and in a deep serious conversation.
They stopped and looked at me.
"Would you like to have some breakfast?" Asked the man in a worn out red plaid shirt.
He smiled and it felt warm.
For some reason I understood that he was my grandfather.
"Yes please." I answered politely.
He stood up from his chair and went to the kitchen to get food.
"Were you able to sleep well?" Asked the other old man. His feature looked similar to my grandafther's.
"Yes. Thank you for asking."
Clearly, I was raised to be courteous to the elderly.
"That's nice to know." He said. Then he opened a book and started reading.

She walks forward wanting to look back.
She forces to take the steps to move away.
She second guesses herself as she takes each one.
Should she stop and turn for a glimpse?
Should she make sure that there's really nothing there?
But she's scared to.
Because what if she finds that there's only an empty space of what has been?
Would she be able to hold herself?

She was already getting consumed by the everydayness in her life.
The days would disappear into nights and then into days.
The seasons seemed to pass without change.
She was sleepwalking and she knew it.
Why can't she snap out of it?
Was she comfortable with the notion that things remained the same?
But it's clear in her eyes that she hated it. There was a flame, but slowly it was dying.
Although no one noticed because her mask was a smile.
She moved in accordance with what was expected, but she remained still inside.
Is she waiting for someone? Or something?
She should do something. She's slowly dying.

Standstill

I stopped dancing.

Tango

I feel like I've been dancing the tango.
He moves forward and I move back.
Then I move forward then he moves back.

He's sweet one day and passive the next.
While I continue to dance around him.
Sometimes he pays close attention and sometimes he doesn't.

I try to keep still.
I try to enjoy the space between.
I try to restrain myself.

I'm not one who follows the rules.
And I'm tired of the drama.
Should I stop dancing?

Scared.

How do you stop yourself from seeing the present through the eyes of the past?
How do you stop feeling anxious?
Can you ever go back to how you were?
Can you ever stop looking back?
When can you stop asking when?
When will you stop worrying about the future?
Will you ever stop imagining events?
Will you ever stop the conversations in your head?

Do I like him or just the idea of it?
Do I know him or just have an idea of him?
I sense his being but he keeps himself closed.
I want to look into his eyes but I can't see them.
Do I just see what I want to see?
Am I refusing his reality?

Is it all worth it?
To be on other people’s beck and call?
To walk on thin ice and broken glass?
To bend over backwards to all their wishes?

Is my self-worth determined by other people’s praises?
And am I useless when I make mistakes?
Do they notice the good that I do?
Perhaps they do, but are quick to forget whenever I trip and fall.

It’s a choice after all to stay in this world.
It’s a choice to feel trapped.
It’s a choice to treat them as if they were high and mighty.
And it’s a choice that I allow myself to remain low.

I can choose to remain and feel as if I’ve got so much to loose.
Or I can choose to get up and just walk away.
But I’m going to walk straight and with my head held up.

In a small house in suburbia, there lived a small family.

There was mommy and daddy, and they had only one daughter.

And her name was Sabrina.

Sabrina was a beautiful child and her parents took pride at her creation.

She had the best toys and pretty dresses that made her look like a porcelain doll.

She was always shown off to her parents' friends and relatives whenever there was a party.

She was an obedient child.

She was always well behaved and quiet.

But Sabrina never smiled.

In photographs, she always looked through sad eyes.

Her parents bought her the best toys and spoiled her.

It was their way of compensating for lost time.

You see, mommy and daddy were hardly home.

Mommy and daddy were workaholics.

Sometimes either certain christmas eves and new year's eves, Sabrina spent alone.

And that was the time that Sabrina met loneliness.

Loneliness became her companion.

She was always there with whatever she did.

Since Sabrina's nanny never let her out of the house, loneliness became her best friend.

Mommy and daddy never met loneliness.

And Sabrina never spoke of her.

Sabrina hardly spoke.

It was assumed that everything was perfectly alright.

And Sabrina thought the same.

When Sabrina started school, she didn't have trouble making friends.

Instead, she was a nuisance in class.

The teacher always made her stand in the corner as punishment for being talkative.

Her behaviour was always the subject of the parent-teacher conferences.

But mommy never scolded her.

As far as she was concerned Sabrina was her naughty little angel.

She calmed down as she grew up.

She was a very bright kid and got in the best schools.

Though she had many friends, her best friend was still loneliness.

She was a companion that grew up with her.

The sadness in Sabrina's eyes never left.

But you can only see it when you look closely.

For Sabrina became a very friendly and sociable person who always smiled when she became a lady.