The People Behind My Eyes

It’s my dream to make my life what it was intended to be.
It’s my dream to close my eyes and never see the reflection of sorrowful times
To never be forced to endure the sight of hope dripping down a windowsill
Dripping to the ground that nourishes the very weeds that choke out my ability to breath.
Painful and burdensome, bleeding and bereaved
It’s my dream to never use these words in reference to me.
It is my dream to see colours in their vibrant, flowing form
It’s my dream to never mourn
To never regret missed wishes on falling stars or
Never pass up the chance to dance when everyone fears the ridiculing eye of another.
It is my dream to wake and not remember who I had to be to survive my mother.
This is my dream.
This is my dream: awake or sleeping.