The dreams I burnt

I flitted through your memory's pages to snatch a few moments away. To erase and evaporate with the heat I could find in the house of your cards. It was a gentle loving house. Just imaginary and fake as you are. But a lovely dreamy house nonetheless.

It was a dream of dreams. Like the unreal, unachievable, pretentious and unattainable dreams. You know, the nights when we choose not to sleep, and think about the dreams we should dream. Dream we can't touch in our real dreams. Not born of the day and it's dreary belongings. But a dream willed, brought forth by an unreluctant admirer.

So i set your memories on fire. Erased and smudged. Torn and ashen. Every which way in which you can't turn back and look at me. Your sullen eyes. They don't please me. Hence I wanted to go. Out of your memories. Out of the cublicles of your past.