Dreams are the lucid lies we tell ourselves to escape what truth we cannot handle.

Dreams are the crystal clear glass of a still lake.

Dreams are the lucky breaks for small town girls striving to make a name for themselves in a big city.

Dreams are the problems that we can’t face in our waking hour but are still vigilant and persistent in sleep.

Dreams are the cases that went cold; the mysteries that went unsolved that leave a haunting wave of sheer images behind waiting to be found.

Dreams are the deep cold water we tread upon the surface of, never seeing the truths lurking below.

Dreams are of a consistency of a cloud; tangible to the eye but not to the touch, cruel illusions tricking anyone brim-filled with hope.

Dreams are the infinite possibilities of the horizon line.

Dreams are the tides that keep crashing and receding with the pattern of the moon.

Dreams are the comfort of a hug and the promise a kiss holds.

Dreams are the people who mark us, help us; change us.

Dreams carry us further then any plane, boat, or car ever could.