Dreams

Scents of roasted coffee 

Bustling streets behind me— 

Separated by 3 sheets of dreams and 

1 glass window— 

They intertwine in space as I am lost, 

Forgotten, 

In yearning notes of playful sorrow, 

Twenty seconds of— 

gold wind rushing through soft reeds on the floor as i tumble, tumble; soft and orange laughter against the cold breeze; 7 friends and none the wiser; lovely dreams trickling through crystalline creeks; starry nights up above with the love of my life, and i miss all that i ever have and all that i will ever have but— 

Cold hard headphones constricting my ears 

My eyes, my nose smothered with hopes, 

With hard city structures, 

Hard deadlines, 

Hard truths, 

Hard loves, 

Lovely cruelty that we choose, 

For fame, for gold, for power, 

And soft dreams that plague us 

In midsummer nights, 

But a dreamer can dream, 

Wrangle tears of gold, pure, 

unfiltered, and leaving a 

Galaxy of loves and oceans and peaceful skies 

But now, for now, 

We must sit silent.