Dreamer

They once called her a dreamer,
a girl who tasted stardust on cloudy nights,
a girl who sang with the wind on rainy evenings
a girl who found love everywhere she went.

And when the poems turned sour in her mouth,
and her upturned lips slipped, landing between her toes,
she couldn’t help but wonder
if this was the price all dreamers had to pay.

Dreams turned to twisted night-terrors
and the dreamer grew afraid of dreaming,
of reaching too high to taste stardust
and falling back down in a puddle of heartbreak.

When she opened her eyes and saw what others called truth
she wanted to close them, to go back to dreaming,
but it was too late; she was lost
from the dream-world forever, and met reality harshly.

They once called her a dreamer,
and she even called herself that once,
but now she prefers simpler terms
like realist.

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