Dreams by the Cranberries

A dream is your mind telling you to hope.

As the world’s axis shifts ever away from its center

And the stars flee from her side,

And the moon weeps,

We dream.

We dream of a life lost,

Of a friend gone,

Of a love forgotten.

I remember tacky sap and the breath of autumn.

Pumpkins bigger than my head,

And the lingering notes of a melody I’ve erased.

I dream of a world where my stomach is aesthetically flat,

And the arms I swing into fists are strong,

And the legs that pump beneath me are sure.

I dream of the people who cannot,

The older or the discarded,

The people who this world ignores,

And the sunny disposition they share

When they curb their own enthusiasm

Just to make a sale of Cutco knives

To the boy who wont roll up his sleeves.

I dream of my father, and his deepest wish

To launch himself from his chair

And fly into the sun,

So that for one brief moment, he is weightless

No longer the lead weight tied to his family’s fishing line,

And leaves the shell that does not dream.

I dream of a friend

And her constant self-flagellation,

And mark the stories on my arms

With sharpies smelling like spring 2004.

I dream of a girl whose name I have forgotten.

Whose face fades into a mirrored lake,

And whose hand slips through my fingers.

Her mouth moves in mine one last time,

And then she’s gone.

I dream of these things not because they are real,

But because my heart wishes for them.

And a dream is a wish your heart makes, after all.