A dream is a single gulp of air before you jump off a cliff.
That last sniff of roses before leaving your grandmother’s house the last time.
All consuming thought,
Of near perfect existence that couldn’t possibly exist.
A dream held high and aloft,
Something to be aspired to,
To grasp at when you’re down at your lowest point.
A panic attack on the floor of your bedroom,
A box full of tissues sitting next to you after a break up,
These things cannot touch the dream.
No one can touch it but yourself.
We abuse the dream,
Twisting it until it’s nothing like what we wanted in the first place,
Crying over what it has become,
Cursing at the world for changing it –
But you changed it.
You allowed experiences to change the dream,
Turning it around,
But you can change it back.
You can take it back.
You can bring it back.
Because the only thing stronger than the dream –
Is the hope that lives inside the dream.