Hanging above my dreams and glories,
She shines like a star in my thoughts.
Turning the worst on any level of wicked upright,
She is my dream catcher.

Dream catcher, dream catcher
Take me away
Away to a place you and I can play
Just like we used to
Among the blades of grass
Away from the nightmares
With you they won’t last.
Be my sweet dream catcher
Whisk me away
Back to when I made you
Smile each day

*(r.e.)

project yourself through the eyes of a chain-smoker. he tastes cigarette matches and drinks staled coffee but eats nothing else. when he lies, feel your empathetic fingers curl around the throat of his soul. when he says he want to die, feel the birds in your chest tremble. when he stumbles through time, through city streets, dead hallways—watch him go. he is asking everyone for innocence. he remembers the days when the sun was bright, and the museum was cold, and there was a frail, freckled hand clutching at the blood in his washed-out skin. but today he cannot buy anything because his pockets are only full of ashen questions—the kind all the quiet people burn away in their loud, loud lives. they keep spinning and he can’t make it to the end of the street.

your heart hurts. watch him ask for innocence back and whisper, to yourself, “i want it too.” fight over it. you know you will both lose. his last words are ink. he’s sick. he never had it. you will go to war with the pavement. it will slip. simmer. bleed. fall.

no one has it. it died.

I will be your dream catcher
As you lie under me
My net will be strong
When I set you free.

I will be your dream catcher
In the darkest of nights
No monsters or evil
Shall lurk, with you in my sights.

I will be your dream catcher
Vigilant and silent
Your happiness I will guard
It will be my eternal assignment.

I will be your dream catcher
Saviour
Protector
I will always be there to catch her.

Only when the rain is as
Sharp as a torrent of Central Park ice
(Y'know, where the ducks are!)
Would I blink,

Not willing for anything
In the world
To miss the joyous songs of a
Still sunny carousel—
Chorus of 10 year old laughter, falling

Much like light spring rains
(Though none befalls me here)
Trickling down my face

Like a second baptism.