ALMOST HER

The dream fills me with hope, But opening my eyes, Waking up to reality, Shatters them all. Dreams bloom like flowers in the spring, While present is like a rainy night mixed with thunderstorms. Would it have been better if I wasn't me? Or if i would have been the dream-me? Because if the dream fades, Who am I left to be at all? But maybe, just maybe, She lingers in reflections, In the silence between songs, In the pause before I speak. And wish I could say more. Maybe I am her — In the way I ache for color, Even when all I see is a world fully dull.