Suspicions

I'm going paranoid,
Seeing all these delirious signs
And I know
I don't want to believe
That I should have faith,
I should have trust...

So if these paranoid beliefs
Come true,
I can't blame myself
For something that I've not wronged
I'll just be jaded
And left to weep.

Keith

Unbeknownst to the stranger
I carry with me
A devastating secret,
Of utter importance
I hung it over my shoulder
And walked on ordinarily
Until a man cycled by
And stole the black bag
From me,
The explosive secret
I chased him down,
To no avail...
Determined,
I asked an elderly man
For directions,
"He has brown wavy hair"
"Oh Keith, yes"
His withered hands, pointing
And there was the familiar stranger
With a slight disguise
He had shaven
Patterns into those glorious strands
I opened my mouth, dignified,
Demanding for my secret back
He did not look at me
But locked his bike up,
With screwed up eye brows
He replied with hostility
Saying that he no longer has it
I besought him for an answer,
I needed it back.

We were running
It was a basement boiler room
He pushed me up a ladder
With peeling white paint
"Quick go, while I stall them"
People dressed in black
Were barging in
Armed with weapons
"No, I'm not leaving without you"

The next scene
Takes us to a bus
My vision tinted
By the presence of sunglasses
He sat across from me
My head faced him,
But he did not know
That I was looking
He gave a little knowing smile
With a disheartened look
In his eyes,
As my companion,
Intertwined his fingers in mine
I gave a weak smile,
And looked away.

It was the wrong timing,
Keith, the stranger
Who appeared in my life
Even after the undercover mission
We went on
Even after showing me
That he cared more than
He could ever admit...
I think after waking up,
If I ever met Keith
On the street,
I'm not sure how I'd react,
Such oscillating feelings...

And I guess,
The only link we'll ever have,
Is our dreams.
And I'll look at this passerby
Thinking,
"You don't know me,
But I know you"
While he walks by,
Thinking the same.

Keith, the character in my dream,
With unknown origins
Who saved the fantastical me,
Who invoked such conflicting emotions in me
He has such little impact on my reality,
Yet demands such attention,
Because he holds my secret.
He is my secret.

I had this really odd dream and it inspired this... really confusing poem, lol. Even though it was strange, it merits some sort of significance, that I can't explain. Maybe Freud can help me...