cRies in me

I began to read them.
They were so old that they almost to frail to read.
Dust seemed to fly away as my eyes moved down the epitaph before me.
So many memories filled the spaces between sentences...
Ghosts began to emerge from the sea of letters and reach out their hands.

I could only watch their helpless gazes with half-hearten smiles and frown.
These shells were only fragments that I wanted to see.
My hands were blistered from reaching to these Ghosts.
It was like watching a play unfold before my eyes that I'd seen before.
But I did not cry when the Ghost had gone.

This was only a shell of someone who once was, but one I had only wanted to see.
This only a shell of someone that I wanted to see.
This shell that I wanted to see.
This shell I wanted.
This shell I.
This I.
I.

Not they, but I could see.
It was a dream once lost for them, but one I carried.
Maybe they too had this dream in a pit somewhere.
Lost forever in a junk pile they were waiting to erase.
Or maybe they already erased.

Which means only I hold on to a dream, not mine.
Which means I hold a dream, not mine.
Which I hold a dream, not mine.
Which a dream, not mine.
Which dream, not mine.
dream, not mine.
not mine.

This is not my dream, but then why do I carry this dream?
A dream another shares to another and then dies from the host.
What becomes of that dream?
Why must I be charged with the final release of it?
The problem resides with giving back the dream to be properly disposed.

Or is the dream really ever disposed?
Does one dream stand alone or is it shared by others?
Is it they who make the dream true?
When we see a child get a gift they have dreamed of having,

Is that child's dream fulfilled or is it a dream we stole to fulfill our self?
Is that child dream a dream we stole to fulfill ourselves?
Is that dream a dream we stole to ourselves?
Is that a dream we stole?
A dream we stole?
We stole.

But if the original carrier of that dream threw it away,
Then we can conclude they didn't want it anymore.
So how do we justify fulfilling a dream not ours in the first place?
Is it for ourselves so we can enjoy the fulfillment of A dream?
What if the original host of the dream discovers you fulfilled it?
Will they hate you for being a cheat?
Or praise you for doing what they never did?

These shells sleep until awaken by the sound of memories and dreams.
Then these fragments hold out their hands and ask for help.
Just smile and remember that these shells will always beg to you.
But it is the original that made the ghost in the first place for you to admire,
or scorn.

but nevertheless love.