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Dreaming, Dreaming

Nothing here is real.
Do not be alarmed at the way
these thorns make you bleed, and
the mossy earth gapes at your feet,
and the sky seems almost
too heavy, low enough for your scalp
to scrape itself against.
Nothing is real.

I am asleep, and I
have made everything up.
Any moment now, those stones
beneath you may turn to water,
or sand, or cotton candy, or
anything I imagine, but keep
walking. I would
like to meet you.
I am asleep, and I am
making everything up.

My brain has sprouted wires
like long hair,
and my dreams drain out from
my skull like kitchen sinks
and old batteries. They have
been observing my world
from the outside for what
must be centuries, and
I do not know how you
found your way in. Already
I can hear your footsteps through
the long wires, twisting up,
backwards, back
into my brain.

Come and wake me up.
I have changed the thorns to
daisies, and a sun is rising
in the distant north.
Climb the old stone steps until
you find me sleeping here,
and see my face in the cold
green light of blinking screens,
my head a mass of dark
tangled cables. Unplug them.
Come unplug them, and
wake me up.

Other Princess Poems:
Snow White
The Little Mermaid
Beauty and the Beast
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