I dreamt you asleep
in a pitch black room
lit only by the colors
of an old 9inch tube TV.
That's the reality I grew up in
but you're so much less bleak
than the view I had in mind.
Yet for some sad reason,
my mind can't escape
the perspective it created.
You're so much more
than a ripped up mattress
laying on the floor,
or some crushed ashes in a tin can.
There's no smoke rising in this house,
no red flame that makes
it so hard to breathe.
You make life a place
to live lightheartedly.
