Red Sweater

These days are a lot unlike those ones, at the same time we are all running parallel to ourselves. We dream and eat and live and all the while think we know what it is to ever wake up. What has been defined as dreaming, I'm finding, is quite the opposite, and so it goes for living. All I know are feelings. All I feel is what I'm allowed, or what I allow myself. These days are not unlike the ones I imagined, but where to draw the line between me and you? You are as real in my dreams as in what has been defined as my waking life. As for me, well perhaps it's just as well. Dreams don't end like books. Nor is there an underlying moral or theme. It's all of the in betweens and crosswalks and childhood record books and a mother's touch to bring me back...to sleep.