Castle in the Air

You're there. She's there. He's there. I'm there sometimes. Just a visitor. Nothing special.

The sky is always bright in the night. The stars there are so large that they shine like the sun and the moon tries too hard to make it dark.

You are always there holding my hand through it all. Sometimes the things that happen are even better than real life. But most of the time they are worse.

It seems as though in every dream where I stand there holding your cold dead hand, I end dying myself. Joining you up there were everyone claims there is a man who sits on a throne in white robes with a choir singing every time he enters a room.


Can I wake up yet?

I stand on the edge of this cliff looking down at the pond beneath me and you let my hand slip from yours. That same hand that kept me standing now pushes me down. Down to the pool of water that feels like cement when you hit it face first.

You jump and land feet first in the same place I did and make a little ripple that splashes my face with realization of how cruel you really are to me. But I hold your hand again anyway.



The ground here feels like the moss beds in the forest. Squishy and comforting. A little damp too.

The creatures here are so strange and so big, so scary yet gentle. We could ride on the back of a lioness if we really wanted to and she would be thrilled by the notion. So we try it and you loose a couple of your fingers when she snarled because we woke her.

I've forgotten that I don't belong here. You hold my hand too tightly for me to want to go back, even though my fingers are turning blue and my eyes are pouring out water falls of pain and anguish.

I figure that because I am hell bound in this world, I might as well stay in the place I've created here. Where the sky changes color with my mood and your emotions grow more and more distraught with my actions. But that's normal I suppose.

Are you safe?

I grab the sunlight and stick it in my pocket for rainy days, days that you think throwing stones at me is hilarious. Days you squeeze too tightly.

My toes begin to tingle as they disintegrate. Time to go back.

You cry as my hand disappears from yours and you know I have to leave you here alone for the day. But I will be back tonight! Don't cry sweetheart, maybe I can stay here, end my breathing over there and just take my journeys here holding your hand.

Not this time though.

Two brown eyes wide open, once shut, look out the window at the rising sun as they remember how she cried. Your hand throbs a little and you soothe it down by rubbing the blood back into your fingers. Another day to make it known that you are still breathing, even though you wish you were still there. With the monster who loves you and you hate him. He doesn't love you, he loves the idea of not being alone.

Open the door with tender touches and sneak down stairs to greet the day. No more dreams. I hate dreams. They are a waste of time and a good pair of sneakers.