Even if you're flesh and blood,
Weaving the timeline that speaks my tale.
Even if you have good intentions,
Taking me back to reality.

Don't come here.
Don't wake me up from my dream.
Don't carry me away.

Don't take me away from the field,
From which the seeds of memory grow,
Where it is most fertile,
With the joys of nature, friendships and love,
Where I may not grow anywhere else.

I don't want to go home.
Please.