[piper]

Dreams.

Sometimes fluffy and small aspirations to write a book or run a tavern.

For others they seek to conquer gods themselves.

Simple long-term passions.

The near unreachable idealism which pushes you forward at the hardest times.

What do I think of when I hear the word dream?



I think of interrupted sleep.

Rolling in my sheets.

Waking up in cold sweats.

Despair on repeat.

Alone.

No parent to save me.

No sibling to comfort me.

Just the endless mirage of the ocean, swelling and falling in the distant view of my tiny window.

No escape from solitude but the long journey across.

Left here for fault not of my own.



When I think of dreams I see depths of depravity.

Ruins desecrated with blood and soul alike.

Glimpses haunting me since birth.

Visions I never asked for.

A curse never explained.

I’ve cried, I’ve pleaded, and I’ve prayed.

Yet it always comes back.

Now my closest acquaintance.

[piper]

Adrift.

Casted to the void of nothing like a survivor of shipwreck.

In a shadowy room with nothing but thoughts to keep company.

Attempting to find value within solitude's melancholy.

Looking for a string. A start. Perhaps even an end.

Something to tug at.

Something to bring me hope.

Or at least to bring me closure.



Did I find it?

Now intimate with the passages of mind, littered with sights I've never witnessed.

Was it worth it?

My 'dreams' haunting me at every turn, biting at my heels while I desperately search.

Can I turn back?

This ever emptying island gracing me long silences to reflect.

Normal was fine.

Long silences of panic, running from myself in cold condemning silence.

Why me?

Searching for what I was promised would never come.

Why do they all look at me?

Feeling spectator gazes on me from every angle. Struggling to breathe as my soul anxiously tears itself apart to look for my string.

I want to go home.

Finally finding it in arm's reach, the strain of pupils tightening audibly in horrific appreciation around me.

Real home. I miss mom. I miss dad.

Yanking it desperately, harshly, without care for my own well-being, lost within fearful haze.

Watching it all unravel.



Daring myself to wake up.

[piper]

You left.

I believed in you.

More than anyone.

Saw the dreams you wanted to inspire.

Felt the passion you wanted to see within me.

Then you failed.

Its more fitting than it is ironic, though I don't expect anyone to understand that.



Been raining a lot lately.

Cold rain.

The type to send chills through a house with stray breeze.

A blanket and a fire helps, but reading gets boring.

Probably need to get a new shipment of books soon.

I read a report about the tower.

Charming idea.

In my head, I like to think if you reach the top you get a wish.

Makes it more romantic and fantastic.

Something tells me you wouldn't even wish for what you wanted.

You'd say its too easy or something else equally fool-hearted.

Wish I could say the same.

I'd probably waste it on you.