Dream Trilogy Poems

I. My Time

Sometimes the dreams are so vivid.
He’s back and he’s acting like nothing happened. 

Like I should be so lucky, like we can forget.
I look it up and the internet says it is because I am 

Trying to process something, to get closure, to 
Finish the unfinished work on my own. I 

Do not want him back. Do not want to go back. 
Anyone who could do what he did to anyone is 

Not deserving of being let back, wanted back, even
Dreamed about, for that matter, yet here we are. My subconscious has 

Work to do, I know. I dream that he is here, 
His things are back, It is like real. He is in bed, he is 

On the couch, he is brushing his teeth. I watch. He
Wants the same routine – lunch packed, dinner made, foot 

Massage after work, sex nightly, rinse, repeat. I 
Look back at that routine and I do not see much me in it. 

The show I am watching has that witch and that vampire 
Making out in a barn again, and I guess that was a nice thing, or would be a 

Nice thing, but in the end I did wonder, I could not help it 
If when he was kissing me, touching me, making ‘love’ to me 

If he was thinking of someone else – from his dark websites, from his apps, from his 
Grass is always greener mentality, from his little speech that “all men need to think 

That they can have any woman, no matter how beautiful their own woman is” from 
His little speech that “it was natural and a drive” and that I was somehow wrong to 

Expect such things as loyalty, honesty, commitment, and
Consistency in any of this. 

I think about how, when I found the dating apps on his phone he said he was “lonely” and I said “But I’m right here” and that was that, no more discussion,

Just a void and the expectation 
That I was supposed to stop hurting or feeling betrayed because he 

Got caught and that was enough for him. 
There is no grace in this. There is no sacred search for unity.

There is no healing to come from wondering why. 
He is who he is. He was that way before me. He will be

That way for always. And another woman I suppose, is welcome to it.
I put in my time. 

II. Cottage

The dreams are so vivid. Yet this time, I am 
With my friend. We have a cottage. It’s teal. 

We have tea and board games. We have laughter.
We have we have we have. A dream of abundance.

A dream of healing because I see myself being myself. And
Being loved for it, instead of called names – awkward, mouse, silly. 

Children play in the yard. Wildflowers. Wild girls. 
Chickens and cats peck and lay around. We eat 

Kale and listen to folk music. We we we. 
My subconscious is on a binge and purge, on a bender 

She is rowdy and wishing. She is a spiral of healing. 

III. Purpose

Sometimes the dreams are so vivid. There I am 
Jumpsuits, rompers, cat eye glasses, eccentric. 

My leopard print coat has been waiting for me. I feel 
Witchy, I feel free. I have a mission and vision. I am 

Out here being hot girl CEO of liberated woman, Inc and I 
Know what I am doing. I round up the brokenhearted and 

Give them potions – olive oil baths, this collection of how to get over it books, 
Jumpsuits and chakra stones. 

I have purpose. I am purpose. My life is on purpose. 
I don’t look back – it’s all broken bridges and forest fire back there. 

Ahead of me my mourning doves fly a symbol of 
New beginnings. 

©Jenny Justice. All Rights Reserved.

Jenny‌ ‌Justice‌, Poet.‌ ‌Sociologist. Teacher. Mother. Woman. Author‌ ‌of‌ ‌Love‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌Time‌ ‌of‌ ‌Climate‌ ‌Change‌ ‌and‌ ‌Reveal.‌ ‌You‌ ‌can‌ ‌read‌ ‌more‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌poetry‌ ‌at‌‌ ‌Justice‌ ‌Poetic.‌‌  ‌‌Sign‌ ‌up‌ ‌for‌ ‌her‌ ‌newsletter‌ ‌‌here‌.‌ Follow her on jennyjusticepoet.com. 

Photo of the Poet, being free and eccentric

Published by Jenny Justice

Jenny ‌Justice‌, Poet.‌ ‌Sociologist. Teacher. Mother. Woman. Author‌ ‌of‌ ‌Love‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌Time‌ ‌of‌ ‌Climate‌ ‌Change‌ ‌and‌ ‌Reveal.‌ ‌

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