the spirit of nightly release,
but she's a master of evasion
and your fingers won't even come close
to the tail end of her wraith-like hair.
The trick is to try and stay awake.
Pay no attention to your half-ton eyelids
or random thoughts fired from tired
nerve endings in your brain.
Just fix your eyes to the darkened ceiling,
and rest assured she'll find you.
Her hands collect random ideas, fears and memories,
mashing them together into a muddled mess of a play,
the greatest play you'll ever witness
and the greatest play you'll ever forget.
Who's to say our dreams aren't reality?
That we're stuck in a world
were the impossible is possible,
and upon nightfall
we dream of normalcy.