In the spidery webs of a dream catcher,
I want the half acknowledged truths
and my deep subconscious fears to be caught
and disappear by dawn.
In the willowy patterns of a dream catcher,
I want happiness and my personal paradises
to filter through to my sleep.
Dangling above my bed,
hanging over my head,
My very own dream catcher,
which protects me from the very self knowledge,
I am afraid to confront.
When you dry out and collapse,
will all the dreams be undone?
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