Poem | A Fairy Dream of Dust

I tend to dream a lot. I do it when I am awake, it’s easier to remember. I imagine myself in another place, doing other things, talking to other people, and that makes me sad.

And I know we all feel lost sometimes but my downfall seems more dramatic than yours. I know it’s not, but it feels this way under my skin.

And I want to be a writer a painter and a wife. I want to go on adventures and have children and read books that make me feel alive. And I don’t need anything else but again,

I feel so lost.

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And I am young, I am so young. I’m twenty one. And yet this feels like too much has happened. Sometimes it’s too late.

And it’s not. But it feels this way under my skin.

And the birds sing and the years happen, and the wind blows and decisions come. And I don’t know it yet. Will I know some time?

And I run and I dance and I sing under the shower. And that makes me happy at the time. But will I know?

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There’s something overwhelming: this feeling that we need everything right here, right now. And I can’t wait. I can’t wait to plant this seed that will make me grow to the infinite and beyond the stars.

I want to be a writer a painter and a wife. I want to go on adventures and have children and read books that make me feel alive.

Because one day, this world will come to an end, the sun will explode and our existence will become a fairy dream of dust trapped in a black hole beyond the stars. And I want to know, I want to make sure by then, that I’ve become all the things I was passionate in life.

I just want to keep running, dancing and singing under the shower and beyond the stars.

A

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