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Don't Disturb My Waking Dream

by The Holy Circle

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1.
2.
True Hearts 04:32
3.
Consequence 04:05
4.
Anne 06:08
5.
Heartache 04:11
6.
7.
8.
Sara 06:36

about

Don’t Disturb My Waking Dream
Chapter One: Anne
She looked down at her feet, obscured by the water and the moonlight, her toes sinking lower in the sand with each new crash. She had held it in so long that she was tempted to fold forward and float away. For the moment, her feet were firm. The stone seawall hid her from their view and allowed time to calm her mind. She was forced to compose herself in their company and suffer their judgement and cruelty. Tonight, she could play no such game. He had returned but instead of joy, she felt such anger that it took her by surprise and she had to get away for fear of herself. Love was not the constant promised by the poetry and hymns she had memorized as a child. That was the painful truth.

No Twilight, No Dusk
Moving forward, now back again. These foolish games we play, My Friend. Waited here in agony. You pierced my soul, took the best from me. If love remains as they say, why’d you go away?

She inhaled deeply, the smell of nighttime and brine filled her nostrils. Maybe this was the way it was meant to be? She reassured herself that it was not naive to hold onto some hope. People were capable of change, after all. Had she not changed? She hardened her heart but time had passed and, eventually, she learned the wisdom that can follow heartache. She was no one’s disappointment, no matter how loud the criticizing voices grew in her head. She was brought up to strive for an unreasonable perfectionism whose natural partner was a self-loathing so steadfast it could hardly be shaken. Did she have the courage to fight against it?

True Hearts
We made a vow long ago. Our hearts were bound, theirs divided. They said it’s wrong, but it feeds the soul and the part that burns in every one of us. One day maybe they’ll see us for our love? Maybe they’ll wake up and see it? One day maybe they’ll see we are the truest hearts? Maybe they’ll wake up and see it? Years have made us wise enough, learned romance growing older, lived our lives on the seeds we’ve sown, and the constant striving to let it go. One day maybe they’ll see us for our love? Maybe they’ll wake up and see it? One day maybe they’ll see we are the truest hearts? Maybe they’ll wake up and see it?

She could hear their voices as she walked closer to the staircase. She had not been missed. She was suddenly gripped by terror and frozen in place. A familiar burning sensation arose in her chest. Somehow, she had to find the courage to seek him out, to say everything she had been holding back, regardless of the consequence.


Consequence
Here we are back at the start, and I thought I’d shed all my tears. Now I realize what you were to me all these years. I’m not the same and I finally now understand this romance. It’s the cruel way that life bestows Providence. What if I came to you and I asked for just one more chance? Would you take me back? Would you have me now as I am?

As she drew closer, the music and laughter morphed into one hum. The sound of her own feet on the stone path seemed to amplify with each step. The moment she had feared and longed for was here. The tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. There he stood in silhouette. He sensed her presence and turned toward her. She exhaled and willed her voice to project.

Anne
Once, I was like a child, tender and warm. My heart was open. Life made me like a stranger, far from myself, far from my heart. I loved before I knew to protect myself from the pain and sorrow. Now I stand before you to reclaim myself, pick up my heart. Faces in the portrait don’t show the scars, fragments, and memories I’m the witness of. Grief became my fortune, a chance to know myself, and the way forward. My heart, it broke so loudly that it woke me from twilight and dreaming. Faces in the portrait don’t show the scars, fragments, and memories I’m the witness of. A thousand tries, return to the start, finding my heart again, and the ways of love.

Chapter Two: Sara
She dangled her feet over the edge of the dock watching blue fishes search the surface for bits of the stale donut that accompanied her coffee that morning. She knew she should go back but was so weary from the weight of responsibility. Inside, she was heartbroken. A numbness had taken over. It felt as if something had crept into her skin and sucked all of the marrow out of her bones. Too stubborn to confide in even her dearest friend, she was left with no other choice but to suffer through the unrelenting waves of heartache that crashed over and over again. How could she continue in this way? The water sloshed against the piling, and she threw the last crumbs in, lost in thoughts of happier times.

Heartache
When I think about the last days that we spent as happy souls, never thought it’d end in heartache. That was pride before the fall. Though it’s over for the two of us, I’m still drowning in this dark love. Weak, resentful, and heartless is the love of other ones. What I feel for you is faultless. Say my fate’s not set in stone. Though it’s over for the two of us, I’m still drowning in this dark love. Too much heartache and you had enough but I’m still drowning in this dark love.

Slowly she stood, steadying herself. The sun was baring down, and she had lost track of time. The studio was a square block away, but she decided to amuse herself and walked along the boardwalk a little further, watched the tourists, breathed in the candy-apple air. As much as she did not want to return, bills had to be paid. She swung open the door and greeted the receptionist with a silent nod. Goddamn if it wasn’t as sweltering inside as it was out! There they were, smoking and waiting in the dark. They had likely been ready for a while but he, for one, would never let on that she won the unspoken contest. He wouldn’t forgive her so they would never move past this. She picked up her autoharp, fingers ready on the cold, taught strings. Her wrist touched the maple body right where the polish had worn away from years of use. It could still transfer soothing vibrations through her arms and elbows, down to her toes. She indicated her readiness with a slight nod to the engineer. She leaned into the microphone, allowing her warm, smoky alto to escape.

What Was Never Said
We were tender and bright, sweetness and light, a peaceful dwelling. Dreams that turn into dust, faded to rust, leaving my heart aching. Time proved ill-fated love, my bitter cup for which there’s no atonement. Hey! I never thought that it would turn to gray. You promised you would never go away. Now, I think about you every night. How could I not see it in your eyes? My only love, I’m waiting here. Now, don’t you see that I love you still? We were tender and bright, sweetness and light, a peaceful dwelling.

She laid on the bed watching the fan rotate dust, dancing just above her head. She couldn’t sleep. Her little girl was growing up so fast. She turned on her side and watched the child, who breathed deeply, in and out, far away in La La Land. Maybe they could do something together tomorrow? Ferris Wheel? Boat ride? She would tell them that she was done recording. She wanted to take the child and go back home to her mountain. She held back tears as she thought of how different the sounds were drifting through the window than those of her own home. How she longed for the familiar sounds of birds chirping and the cold, dewy feel of the mountain damp on her face in the morning. She drifted off, dreaming of her singing birds until she was one of them, flying back over pines, back to days when love was uncomplicated and she sang without resentment in her heart.

My Heart Is Like A Singing Bird

She woke up the next morning and knew the decision that had to be made. She watched her daughter, still sleeping peacefully and thought, “She’ll never forgive me, either. But I have to, for all our sakes.”

Sara
I really gotta tell ya’, I was tired of feeling low. When he left for California, I was sad and all alone. I think it’s fair to say that I’m a child of circumstance. I tried so hard to please ‘em that I washed away myself, who I am. Dreaming of your face now, loving you from where I am. Whether one way or another, I’ll come back to you, My Love. We’ve got the same music stuck in our bones, flesh and blood, different heartbeats. One day you’ll know the story goes with the song, waking up from the daydreams.

Lyrics and narratives inspired by Jane Austen’s Persuasion, Charles Hirshberg and Mark Zwonitzer’s Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone?, the poetry of Christina Rossetti, and the Carter Family songbook.
-Erica Burgner-Hannum

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released November 11, 2022

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