"you have to wake up.
        it's just a dream."

                                                      h­olding—
                                                         ­       almost there, right there—
                                 just wait, wait, wait... you have to stop, alright.

                  right here, right here beside.
                     wait up, just a few minutes.
            let me reside,
                       find a spot to rest.
                      i can stay here, i have you and everything—
                                             just let me please—

"it's just a bad dream."

                                               no—a good one! you don't see what i see.
                       the visions of the broken ones,
               they don't fit,
                           they're out of place.
                                  but oh god, the kind of puzzle pieces they make!
                                            fill it up, tone it down,
       the broken lines and misshapen circles
                                             aren't really all they're about.
                                     there's so much more!

"what do you see?"

                                                          ­     everything—
                                      everything is right here.
                                                         i just need to grab.
                                              can't leave, won't leave.

                                                       how can you pull me away like that?

"but it is a dream, you ought to agree by now."

                                   no, no—there was a call.
                       a phone, a telephone booth wherein i stood,
                        and i was dialing, the number at the tips—
                    let me write it down, will you please?
                         hand a paper—here you go:
                          1111-787—
                       ­    good heavens,
                                                   i can't remember what came afterward.

                     could i go back? i have to.
                          tonight, it's lucid—i can, perhaps.

"but is it okay for you to?
why don't you exist in what you can see?"

                                                          ­do you dream while you're awake?

"do you see what stands at stake?"
        
                                       nothing that i wouldn't be glad to miss.
                                    the unseen has so many meanings—
                                                       ­                 what do you even believe?
                                                        ­    do you not wish upon an eyelash,
                    or dream of the best things when the clock strikes 11:11?

"i've been missing out on both,
losing trust if it's really worth to own."

                             foolish, fools in becoming.
                                                 the current might not be the right place,
                                                      but you're the right one in dreaming.

            belong right here, nowhere else but in that dream.

"you're insane."

                                                       ­   then why are you following me in?

"'cause you're insane—
and i belong right in the group of misfits you reside between."




                                                   ­                                                             (...­)

in a snow globe, one that holds late autumn,
our backs ache from standing too tall, too long.
so here we sit beneath a naked tree,
surrounded by dried leaves,
sharing cinnamon buns and hot chocolate
on a bench, freshly painted.

and it’s a dream-town—
nothing too real,
only imagination spun in the web
of what refuses to bargain with our happiness.
we’re happy here.

in the snow globe:
boundaries, protected, glass-like,
waiting for someone to shatter it,
to bring us back
to what they call their ideal.


                                                        ­                         we're the dreamers.