I'm just dreaming and I'll wake up and the world will be a better place, with better people living on it, and I will live home with a loving family who sits together for dinner, and I'll be young and not know love. I won't be able to call it by it's first name, or even know the scent of it and I'll go out searching and get burns that feel like a forest fire but really are only just scratches but they will shake the ground I walk on. I'll walk for miles and miles contemplating life and what it feels like to be grown up and then a sense of familiarity will hit because I've been there in my other dreams, and I'll get carried away and write great big stories and scripts and make up situations in my head until I drive my friends crazy. I'll paint until my little fingers can't paint anymore, and then I'll play outside in the seasons fruit; the flowers, the puddles, the leaves and the snow. I will somehow jump into my first kiss and regret it days later, cry myself to sleep because he wasn't "the one" and then realize that would have been impossible anyway because there are "so many fish in the sea" says my sweet mother, as she passes the asparagus at the dinner table. I'll stick with the boys and play neighborhood kickball until they start to think I'm pretty, then I'll back off and meet some girls who torment me and make me feel like dirt, I'll cry to my mom who hugs me to sleep and tells me they'll outgrow it when really they never will, as my dad threatens to speak to their parents who are just like their children and will never learn. I'll get tougher and tougher until I'm totally okay with ignoring whoever I please. I'll get old enough to notice when my parents fights are serious, and I'll feel uncomfortable that they no longer hide it from me and I'll cry in my room and shake until sleep takes me away. I'll fall in love to protect my heart and pretend boys are romantic and actually like me but I'll never realize I'm constantly lying to myself because we're still kids and they all just want to screw each other and move onto the next one. I'll brush off my knees from the dirt of the last one and move onto newer goals like futures, apartments and college but really it will just pull me back further into a pit of no return because that awkward four years will make the once brave and eager kid a terrified and realistic adult. I'll keep burying terrible feelings and wishing I was just dreaming, just dreaming, over and over again until my actual life is a dream that I'm chasing barefoot on a blazing hot highway and then I'll pass out from the final snap. We aren't just dreaming anymore, and if we aren't living the dream then we sure as hell are official adults.