I can't remember the last time
I dreamed
And that makes me sad
Almost nostalgic
For those days when my brain was too full
To not dream
Those days that marked me
Colored me full
Colored me pretty
And interesting
Like the pages of a printed
Special movie edition book
Now I'm more like
An old leatherbound cookbook
Beaten and worn from past usage
Torn pages
Yellowed corners
Used
But might as well be empty because I am used no more
Full of beautiful recipes and possibilities
But too weak and fallen apart
To be reconsidered
I can't remember the last time I laughed
With someone who understands me
With someone who couldn't say
"Oh that's so funny"
When I tell a joke that's not
And instead berates me
For being so lame
But in a loving way
But this does not make me nostalgic
Because you always find someone better
People come and go
So do dreams I suppose...

Somehow it's different
Somehow it's not the same
I need to have dreams to know I'm still alive inside
And people can only prove I've got a physical body
That's all