Every Monday morning, I pray you have a good week
Every evening, I pray you fall in to a sound sleep 

Every Friday, I pray your weekend will be safe

Every Sunday, I pray you are in a peaceful place

And sometimes, when I’m feeling selfish, I pray you will be mine again 

An atheist caught in a cycle of prayer. 



Sometimes I wonder what I did to lose you, then I remember I’m the first woman you’ve ever fucked without a condom and you won’t ever trust or love anyone as much as you trusted or loved me. I didn’t lose you. You’ll be back. 

I haven’t dreamt in so long.
I don’t know if it’s the weed stunting my dreams or maybe I’ve lost creativity.
All I know is I don’t dream, and I’m sad.
I don’t dream at night. I don’t daydream. I don’t dream at all–maybe I’ve lost my aspirations & hope for the future?

Maybe I’ve lost my ability to fantasize. Maybe I’ve been so fucked by reality that the mystical is no longer attainable. 

I do know one more thing–I want my  dreams to come back.