Stop, Raise your head.
Look up.
What can you see?

You can see a smear of blue?
I don’t:
I see a symphony of colour.

Rose Petals hiding beneath cotton wool
Brilliant Turquoise waters painted on canvas
Rolling white hills that cry
Hungry Black Monsters playing catch with daggers of light.

The Dream breaks.
Clear glittering droplets fall.
I retreat.

Inside.
An invisible wall between me and the outside
Separation.
My hand reaches out, I want to ****** the dream back
I hit something cold, hard.

The dream is lost.
Gone.
I still see it, remember it.
But it fades.
The Weather changes.

Gone.