She wants to dance.
Dance until she can barely feel her knees
and it's impossible to wipe the sweat from her brow.

She wants their love to be
eternal.
Exactly how they croon and
whisper to each other.
Waking up to him each and
every morning.

She wants to write.
Nothing infamous, but enough
so that she is recognized every so often.
Enough to keep money in her pocket.

She wants her own life.
Music, happiness, success,
love...

The worry-free American dream.
Why does it have to be a dream?
Why not a Monday?

Maybe some day...
She'll wake up on that Monday.