Hands over mouth, twinkling eyes. Green, lush fields now charred and brown, blinking red neon lights cast us in a devilish glow. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Time flies like a black raven, calling out to no one. Higher and higher until it perches on a branch surveying us all with proud, beady eyes.

We faded away into the vortex of time. Vices crept up, holding us down with its ivy-like strands of delicate spider silk.We are all made of stars. And childhood memories.

We'll make it.

breathe // dream

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