Dreams

Dreams

When my eyelids close, I go to a place that only I can go. My imagination churns inside my head, creating color, and shapes that only I can see. My mind pinches, pokes and perfects the thoughts in my brain, turning them into the dreams I see behind my dead unseeing eyes.

Here in my bed I lay dormant, waiting for the dream again. Then, slowly, a small light glows slowly and faintly in front of me. As I walk toward it, it becomes stronger and brighter before it gets blinding bright. I lift my hand to my eyes and walk forward into the dream. The light disappears and leaves me inside a world of my own.

Anything can happen here. I can fly, hold fire in my hand, and be with whom ever I want to be with. The walls of my city are made of glass, and gemstones. The streets are made of water, yet you walk on them as if they were cement. People wear anything, and everything. No longer is what is in style important, but what you want to wear is.

War is but a distant thought, and peace is the word. Pollution is dead, and rain only happens when you want it to. Sun shines down on you, but heat is only felt in small portions, and snow can fall without it being cold.

Here I can do what ever I want. My friends come see me nightly, and family is no longer rude and mean, and the dead still speak. My grandpa Dale may be gone in reality, but in my dreams, he’s still there, in his overalls, and glasses, holding a fishing rod and bait, ready to go to the lake. People whom I will never meet I person, are here in my head. My friends play with me here; chasing the birds, eating, and having sleepovers like we always did.

I can hear my long gone friend Julie laugh again, even though I haven’t seen her for years, and only her mouth is moving and no sound comes out. My ears have gone quiet, and the stillness of the night is overbearing, but inside my head I hear voices. I see them moving their lips, and I hear their voices, but I don’t really hear them. My ears hear nothing, yet out there, I do.

Dreams are confusing things, yet beautiful and delightful, taking you were ever you wish; but sometimes they go horribly wrong. My glass city melts, and the gemstones turn black. Friends die, and my grandpa goes silent. I am left alone in the world I created. I created it, but I destroyed it as well. My thoughts did this, and as I look around, I see nothing but blackness. Then, I hear something from the outside world, but I am still here. I hear the voice calling me, and I see the thing that destroyed my land in front of me, calling me a well. Confused between what is real and what is imaginary. I feel the evil things arms around me, and I feel the arms of my mother trying to drag me out of bed. I refuse to wake up, and the torture continues. Then all of a sudden, my eyes flick open and the evil is replaced with my mother face.

But other times, my world is wonderful. Gushing streams, wild horses, and anything I wish is here. I wish to never leave; but if I don’t, then reality will cease to exist, and then how will the dreams be so special then, huh? They won’t. So when my eyes flutter open, and my serious mind sinks back in, I smile and get up and greet the new day. Without reality, dreams would not exist. And I’d much rather experience something in person, then in dream land. Until the next time my eyelids start to droop, and, my shoulders sag, will I enter my own little world…and start to dream.