Where do Dreams Go When They Die?

Where do dreams go

when they float out of your body

in the bright of day

when you’re least suspecting

betrayal? Or in the middle of the night when you wake up feeling lost—

somewhat adrift in the false sanctuary 

of a warm duvet. Where did they go? 

There are no tearful goodbyes 

when dreams 

sneak out the back door, no

whispered regrets or half-said gripes

only the bewilderment of lost socks,

missed buses and tired

lunches.

Where do dreams go?

It’s hard when you don’t know where they’ve gone or even if they've gone. What if they return when you’re not home? They might slide back under the door or slip through the open window… creep out from under the pile of papers you’ve been meaning to file or the pile of crumbs at the bottom of the toaster. What if they just got lost? So you keep to your rituals, turn the porch light on and water the plants hoping,

hoping it was a mistake, they are just teasing or repaying you back for some

slight you made when you didn’t know better. But

dreams are not like that. When they leave

they are gone.  They don’t care

about the gaping wounds

of a pierced heart, the emptiness

of longing and the pitying stares of those

who have (they say)

worked harder, shone brighter, taken 
a different path, they don’t look back 
to comfort confused souls

quivering in disbelief

they just go

to wherever they go

and are gone

leaving you to rise again

with the dust left behind

under the pillow.