You bite your lip until the blood comes. The pain isn’t going to go away until the physical kicks in. That’s why you write your name on the side of your ankle. That’s why you scream until you can’t breathe. That’s why you dream until your broken.

So dream for me, young dreamer.

I’ll hold your wishes in a paper cup. But I’ll give you plastic, if you ask. And I won’t laugh; I promise.

So-so? That’s a promise-promise. You said you’d never break them. That was a pinky twist with a blow on the thumb. Our inside joke. Our secret. Our promise.

…and you broke it.

But you broke me the most. And those promises are gone, young dreamer. You just dreamt wrong. Put your wishes in a glass instead and give it to prince. Make him keep it in a treasure box. No one will get to it. Like Pandora. Yeah, just like her.

Good night, young dreamer. Don’t forget what I asked of you. So-so on that.

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