I wake for the man who lost his dreams. For the woman crying in her bathtub.
For the girl who can't remember her being. For the boy out teaching his son, before he even found himself. It keeps me dreaming, dreaming about things you could be, things you could have. It builds a fire inside me, and I feel like a child.  

I think of the sick one, lying in her stiff bed while I'm eating my cereal. I think of the lonely one sitting in his office shuffling, while I'm slipping on my dress. I see your empty face while I'm putting on my tights. I wonder how you're feeling about yourself. If you're somewhat secure. Hoping you won't say a damn thing about someone else. Then I put on my socks. I sit on the edge of my bed wondering if you're finally being yourself.



I know I'm not here to remember math equations. I can't remember movie titles, directors, or actors names. I forget a lot of what I'm saying. But I don't care to speak at all. Not into being top shit with all the newest things. I can't take these with me. Do you see? I don't need any advice about how I should go about things. I have a pretty good idea myself. I have control. I am strong, but sometimes I'll admit to needing love. Talking seems pointless to me, when I could  be hugging you. Words hardly are comforting so, I hardly do. I try to smile, but I my heads full of all sorts of pain. I've tried not to but it's something that will stay. You're fears are all, so similar. I used to be dedicated to help, but everyone's stubborn. So instead, I play. I'm up in the clouds dreaming, waiting for my day. & somehow, I always wake.  For you.