Dreams are a distorted reflection

Dreams are a distorted reflection of our reality,

all the same pieces, all the same filling,

just jumbled like a crossword with letters as small as molecules and atoms.

Along the diagonal lines of microscopic letters,

And inside the fatal memory of you,

I noticed a new pattern in our written destiny,

which always seems to change.

Perhaps we weren't promised a future in the stars,

that I remember you admired so greatly,

because in the newly written fate,

implanted in my memory,

you promised you'd leave,

Even if you did promise,

just with your eyes,

that you'd be back.