There's this sort of peaceful dream
I'm not allowed to have anymore
Life is too calm
I'm in too much control
Everything is too perfect

I'm not allowed to think like that.

All of my paint has to have chips in it,
There's always a light burnt out,
Half bright, half beautiful
The shadows are always in the wrong places
The windows have to be closed

I don't get to dream of precious waves or hour glasses
I have to dream of crashing ships on jagged rocks,
My mermaids have claws,
The lighthouse keeper has been shot dead.

No one is there to hold me at two am
All of the people shove me back in the chaos
Take my ground away
I am always the one to tell myself,
"It'll be alright."
And
"It was just a dream."
But usually,
It sounds more like crying.


If someday you should chose to love me
It will be easy for me, but not for you
I want to love and love and love until I drown in it
But that's too deep for some, for me, apparently
I am not allowed to love with my whole person
To love unconditionally would be a peaceful dream
*A rose garden, a delicate dress and a fragile girl