The 18YearOld Naive.

6:50 A.M


 I brewed myself some coffee and sat, waiting for it to cool down on the kitchen table
going over  the contemplation- unfinished story, trying to recall each scene of my dream in chronological order.
I am not the type to perfectly remember the lines of one character's scripts, but this came too deeply into my heart. 
Maybe because it's a dream- that I only wish so hard for it not to be..




I watch the sunrise through the window- elbows on the table, I closed my eyes, and feel it melt over my heavy eye lids. 

Lord, grant me with brighter days..