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oh dreams…

if you come,

come clearly.

i’m tired,

tired of this life drawn in tangled doodles

scribbles everywhere,

beautiful…..

but messy.

and all i want

is one clean line,

one path i can walk without tripping.

sometimes i think

why can’t i live another life

inside my sleep?

a second version of me,

the one i never got to be.

a place where i choose the people,

not where life picks them for me.

dreamworld…

you feel like a bubble

glittering, soft,

and gone the moment my eyes open.

and i wonder,

when this planet is done with us,

do we float into an eternal dream?

no alarms, no gravity

just drifting through thoughts forever.

are we dreamers like Lennon believed?

or fools

trying to translate clouds?

no— maybe not.

Freud would say

dreams speak in symbol,

in soul language,

in things we half-unders

i don’t know what i’ll dream tonight,

but i hope

when i wake,

no brother bombs another brother’s house,

no mother cries for her child,

no sky burns red.

just peace.

just rest.

just one gentle night

with no war inside or out.

just one peaceful dream.

is that too much to ask?