What if
I dreamt of you dying.
In all the vivid ways.
Were you stabbed, or beat up,
Or did I hear your bones crumble between
the concrete wall and the hood of a car.
Were you stricken by a horrible disease,
Struck in the head with a crowbar,
while I stood
beside you?

What if I knew
that none of these dreams
could ever come true.
Unquestionably impossible
for them to,
for there are so many possibilities,
and none of them would ever match mine.
What if I dreamt all of these heinous dreams
for you, my friend,
to stay with me

Photo: Annie Spratt on Unsplash.com