The dissolution of dreams


Those pesky dreams. They will ruin me.
I’m talking about those euphoric dreams where your hair stays shiny and volumous despite dancing until 5AM, where there is no anxiety, when you are confident and know you look great. Where everything you do or say is considered endearing, when someone is enraptured by your beauty and intelligence and a tall handsome and charming stranger sweeps you off your feet.

Instead I wake up drooling a bit on the pillow with knots in my hair, sleep in my eyes and knowing I looked like a frumpy hobo with a sniffly cold.

Damn you Disney films! I’m no-one’s princess, you should know that by now.

“and i’m so sad
like a good book
I can’t put this day back
It’s a sorta fairytale
with you”


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