Pink

I had a dream that I sat in a room, posture excellent.

It was very pink.

I don’t even like pink.

I was young in this dream.

Still blossoming into my figure.

Probably around 12 or 13.

I recall wearing a silky rose shirt and matching shorts.

I could smell the flowers radiating.

It was peaceful.

I danced and sang to the sound of my own breathing.

That’s all I had.

All of the sudden I heard my door widen.

I focused my vision on a bastard.

This man is brute.

I blinked.

My room shifted to green.

My bed was broken.

My mirrors were cracked.

I wasn’t wearing my pretty pajamas anymore.