[dreams]

I was in a mental hospital. Lying on the narrow bed in my room, there's a window directly in my line of sight. And a small television to my right, on a mahogany table. (you can ask them for movies, I remember. They had any movie you could possible think of, but at the moment my mind wiped clean of any and all movie titles that I might want to watch.) Everything around me is the muted colour of twilight, blues and greys and soft tones of dim white.

Calm, so calm. I have the blankets pulled up around me and my stuffed Cheshire cat curled into the crook of my arm. Looking out the window, it's snowing. And I'm just lying there watching the snow drift silently. It builds up on the tree branches poking around the window frame and I smile lazily, reminded of sugar.

Everything is white, outside that window.

I'm peaceful. Quiet. At rest.

it doesn't matter what you say

ometimes, when I'm feeling particularly sadistic and blamey, I like to wonder what exactly in my life has been real and what hasn't. It's a wonderful game. And it makes all the many knife wounds in my back and through my heart twist in a remarkable manner.



oh Elise, believe I never wanted this.
I thought this time I'd keep all of my promises.
I thought you were the girl I'd always dreamed about.
But, I let the dream go.
The promises broke.
The make believe ran out.