My dreams must carry meanings

that only they understand
for not once have I been inspired
or effected by their causes
Speak to me of family
So I may hold my tongue
It's all too easy to let things slip
that should have been said years ago

I'm not holding secrets

I'm not unwell

But what my therapist doesn't know won't kill her

And what I do know has yet to poison me

Sometimes I worry I am who I am
because of my self repressed memories
that I can only find love
(or sex)
through someone else's choice
instead of my own

But in my books
I read and write of dreams with meaning
and I hear my friends speak
of unsettling memories
creeping in their thoughts
and I wait,
patiently,
to feel haunted