Everything I see is real
Everything, down to all the illusions in my head
Tangible, grasping in depth, genuine in shape and form
The monsters still come out and I still fight them
Battling with my wooden sword in hand
Jumping from the springs in my bed
To solid surface beneath
Landing with a loud thump
That brings her to my room, telling me play time is over
Under the covers
But playtime is never truly finished
Even in my dreams, I fight them
Everything I see is different
From the old man sitting on the side of the road
With a can in his hand
To the man with tailored suit
Strolling up to his Mercedes
Kids reaching for butterflies with cupped hands
To running away from bees on the playground
A woman helping her friend with a swollen belly
To a girl taunting another with mean words
I dream of day and night
Everything I see is nonsense
The man down from me pays for a cup of coffee and never drinks it
A photograph placed beside it
A woman next me stands waiting for the subway train
But never attempts of get on, she comes everyday
The girl in my class wears a red scarf every morning
Even in spring
I dream of various colors and shapes
Morphing into nothing
Everything I see is perceptive
A man lost his wife in a car accident
He carries her picture everywhere he goes
A woman almost lost her life on train tracks
Now, she attempts to step into the unknown
A girl’s best friend died of cancer
Her favorite color was red
I dream of blue rich sky and trees providing a canopy of shade
Green leaves dancing in the wind
Everything I see is real
I like to believe every image sequenced in my brain
Has some purpose for being there
I like to believe that every good deed
Creates a ripple effect
I like to believe that we understand
All the things that are nonsense
Everyone has monsters
Some just don’t fight them, or at least not in the same way
With a wooden sword in hand
Quick steps and illusion filled images
I dream of life
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
Everything I see is real
Everything, down to all the illusions in my head
Tangible, grasping in depth, genuine in shape and form
The monsters still come out and I still fight them
Battling with my wooden sword in hand
Jumping from the springs in my bed
To solid surface beneath
Landing with a loud thump
That brings her to my room, telling me play time is over
Under the covers
But playtime is never truly finished
Even in my dreams, I fight them
Everything I see is different
From the old man sitting on the side of the road
With a can in his hand
To the man with tailored suit
Strolling up to his Mercedes
Kids reaching for butterflies with cupped hands
To running away from bees on the playground
A woman helping her friend with a swollen belly
To a girl taunting another with mean words
I dream of day and night
Everything I see is nonsense
The man down from me pays for a cup of coffee and never drinks it
A photograph placed beside it
A woman next me stands waiting for the subway train
But never attempts of get on, she comes everyday
The girl in my class wears a red scarf every morning
Even in spring
I dream of various colors and shapes
Morphing into nothing
Everything I see is perceptive
A man lost his wife in a car accident
He carries her picture everywhere he goes
A woman almost lost her life on train tracks
Now, she attempts to step into the unknown
A girl’s best friend died of cancer
Her favorite color was red
I dream of blue rich sky and trees providing a canopy of shade
Green leaves dancing in the wind
Everything I see is real
I like to believe every image sequenced in my brain
Has some purpose for being there
I like to believe that every good deed
Creates a ripple effect
I like to believe that we understand
All the things that are nonsense
Everyone has monsters
Some just don’t fight them, or at least not in the same way
With a wooden sword in hand
Quick steps and illusion filled images
I dream of life
