- Vol. 09
- Chapter 11
I would rather live vividly in my lucid dreams
where I could leap from one cloud to another
and the darkness of the night is welcomed.
I would watch the stars unobscured
while the palm trees and I sway to the orchestra
of whales and waves, a slow dance honoring
the marriage of midnight and sleep, an escapade from
all the horrors and cruelty of the world.
But like every fairy-tale, the clock always strikes
and whips you to reality—
You stare at the ceiling confused,
that lingering feeling of something lost,
something gone too soon, like your heart was ripped out
of its cage and forced to be(at) somewhere else.
You try but it hurts to remember. Was it the pain of forgetting?
Or was it the agony of waking up?