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empty dreams

is it these pressures that balance on my shoulders,
these rocks tumble precariously,
until my entire self crumbles?

i dissolve, a nothing against a haze of something
and everything disappears.

am i just a hallucination?
i want to be a mirage, disappear at first glance,
an image of what you want,
an image of what you can never find.

the oasis was never there,
a fanciful dream i can never reach,
i wander in the desert, dying of thirst,
but death eludes my heavy heart,
and the sky opens up above me.

i wander on. blindly.

my future is a black hole, gravity taking everything
over. before i even took my first breath,
my fate was cut by the Three Fates,
i live because i must breathe,

because i must.

this responsibility that kills my soul,
my blank eyes are nothing but black beads
sewn into the fabric of my face.
a living puppet, i bow to their wishes –
these nameless people –

hate me.

they attribute my dreams to fantasies,
my successes to a trick of the light,
my love to a misguided heart –

i can’t be anything.

i was a fool to even dream.

but these dreams interfere with my sleepless nights,
when i close my eyes, i see million-colored strings
light – pulsing, flashing, blinding –
but their voices rip me away,
my hands are empty, my eyes tearing for something i can’t remember,
i dream.

these days, my dreams are empty,
black holes of nothingness

have i given up?

i wake up with scratches on my arms, the night still alive,
and the day gone,

and the voices continue,
caged within classrooms, i can’t break through glass,
i drown under papers left unfinished,
they take me apart and put me back together,
the endless space in the sky holds only promises
of hurt.

their hands tear into me ruthlessly,
the knives pick at my bones, cut my fingers,
everyone around me runs down their highways,
i lie on the ground, my limbs askew,
there is no blood left in me to bleed

there is nothing left to take away

was there ever anything in the first place?

but your dreams are your most treasured things. they are the fuel to your life, what weaves your soul and heart into one body. these voices will tell you to conform to the standards of society and lock yourself in your classroom – day in and day out, you stare at the papers, until ink bleeds into the desk and your eyes become the window to your empty soul. and, slowly, your dreams become nothing but flattened carcasses into the road of life, and you will be stuck in place, your feet moving but the horizon never grows closer.

hold onto your dreams. follow wherever they take you. these dreams may only exist when you close your eyes, but if you reach out and take a hold of those glimmering strings and pull, Fate and your decisions will find their way. the beginning may be the hardest – the first step out of poverty, out of fear – but i give you my sincere belief that the end will be prosperous, and that there will be rewards to reap, even though they may not be tangible. people will turn away. they will scoff. but know that there is someone out there who believes and wishes to do what you do. and there is someone out there who will follow your steps with wide eyes and who cares about you. and those voices will turn silent because you will revel in what you do, what you will do, what you have done.

for without your dreams, you are nothing.

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