I dream of his arm
Around my shoulder or waist
Or a kiss on the back of my neck
When days are hot

I dream of walks in a park
And telling secrets
To my best friend
And to hug him on a bench at dusk

I dream of nights
In which we'll fall asleep together on his couch
And wake up
To greet each other "Good Morning"

But my dreams slit my wrists
When I'm not paying attention
Like a knife accidentally heaved through
Dreams are much like friends in a way,
They can bring you pain as easily.