cigarettes and lies, i am a child

I have dreams...but I wake up in fear that you will never be my dear, dear friend.

A few nights ago I reread your latest letter, and then after I fell asleep you were standing on my parent's front porch. It was summertime and you apologized for lingering hugs. You couldn't stay long, you had to get back, back on a plane.

In my dreams you look and act like yourself, except you're usually sweet to me. I feel weird all the next day after I wake up, thinking of you.