my dreams

These days I've been waking up with my dreams still tangled in my hair. Every morning I painstakingly comb them out of my curls; being careful not to shatter them for my dreams are brittle things {like dried flowers, tiny bird's nests, and glass tears}.

Once untangled, I slip most of the dreams into my abandoned doll's tea set for safekeeping. I know they will be protected in the small sugar bowl and teapot that once held my girlhood fancies.

But the most cherished dreams I do not store away as I should. Instead, I tuck them in the hollow at the base of my neck.


The forgotten dent we all havethat almost seems like a thumbprint left by some greater being.

Throughout my days, touching the dreams that nestle there brings me content.
Sometimes I give in and let them consume me - they are the only sweetness in my bland days.
It is dangerous, I know. These dreams belong to the night where sunlight can't cause them to fade away.
But as long as I keep a dusting of moonlight in my soul surely they will not perish.
{And perhaps they, in turn, will keep me from perishing as well.}





(Postscript: The words have returned as I knew they would. But they have brought luggage with them... Ah yes - hello insecurities. Why, oh why must you travel with my inspiration? It seems I can't have my words back without you grabbing my ankle with your cold little hands.
So, the good news is - I am writing again! The bad news is - nothing I write sounds very good to me. *sigh* It's a vicious cycle.)

{Pictures found here and here.}