Dream Catcher by Matthew A. Hamilton

I dream of lolly pops and
angel dust,

fairy land.

The sweet smell of opium races through my
infected nose.

The sun is made of gold.
Devil eyes burn.

The moon is filled
with cracks of blue mix.

Wild things crawl under my bed. I
can hear them.

“What do they sound like?” the doctor asks.

“They sound like nothing,” I say.

“Nothing is something,” he says.

The holes in my bruised arms are battle wounds
of a rehabilitated street corner.

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4 Comments

Filed under Matthew A. Hamilton

4 responses to “Dream Catcher by Matthew A. Hamilton

  1. Sad how true this is for many.

  2. I really liked this, read it several times. :)

  3. Amazing piece, Matt. The first 3 lines especially; Peter Pan-like in the image they evoke, lovely with sinister lying just below the surface. Lots of super tension here. Peace…

  4. Pingback: Week #15 – Sleep « 52|250 A Year of Flash

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