Illusion.. Perfect.. Nightmare

The perfect dream was a a blissful scenario, til I realized it was a nightmare

In a perfect world—
or maybe it was a perfect dream—
your hands didn’t leave,
your words didn’t fracture,
and love didn’t feel like borrowed time.

Everything fit there.
Promises stayed where they were placed.
Hope wasn’t something
I had to apologize for wanting.

But waking came quietly,
the way nightmares do—
no screaming,
just the slow realization
that safety was imagined.

Reality had teeth.
It wore familiar faces
and called itself love
while teaching me how to doubt.

What I held as a dream
was a warning in disguise.
What I believed could save me
only showed me where I bleed.

In a perfect world—
or maybe just in sleep—
this story ends softly.

Too bad it was a nightmare
the moment I opened my eyes.