Riley welch is a poet from texas living in Denver. She posts three original poems a week. 


I had a dream where the world ended,
but it didn’t fall apart,
and nothing went up in flames,
all my favorite restaurants were still open,
and no one I knew or loved was dead.
Everything was almost the same,
except we all knew the world had ended.

I still worked on marketing plans,
I still did my homework in the hours before it was due,
I still planned out with friends which day of the week we’d go out,
I still got annoyed when I knew I was right,
I still kissed my boyfriend and told him he was good,
I still ate like garbage and over-caffeinated and was shocked when I felt like shit,
I still felt guilty when I missed phone calls I knew I could have taken,
I still watched tv and texted my best friend my favorite jokes,
I still scoured Craigslist for cheap jobs I could do on the side,
I still washed my face too much and my hair not enough,
I still waited until I was 3,000 miles over to get an oil change,
I still worried about graduating, and grad school, and work, and money, and family, and friends, and drug use, and drinking, and growing up.

And we were all still endlessly anxious,
Like even without a world we found a way to remain discontent.

And then I woke up, stomach turning in knots over itself.
Reminding myself:

It was a dream.
It was a dream.
It was a dream.

I worried about the metaphoric implications of it,
but no more than I worried about anything else,
and after a few hours,
I forgot the dream altogether.

Riley Welch


Two, Four