I used to ask myself—
Why do people die for a dream?
And the universe, as if it had heard me.
It gave me my answer.
It made me see a dream.
Like I could live it.
Make it my reality.
But it took it.
I'm still dreaming of a dream I dreamt years ago.
A simple dream that became my everything—
My hope,
My despair,
My shame,
My guilt.
So much, I don't even understand.
And the happiness it gives me—
can't be compared to anything else.
But dreams...
They taste so sweet from the outside.
I never knew the pain they'd bring.
A heartbreak I don't want to meet.
A drug I want to take forever.
But I know—I must let go.
My feet are tired,
running in circles I created.
A prison with sparkling walls
that I want to carve my name into.
And now,
I'm afraid...
I might die trying.