cash4dreams

we didn’t sell our dreams often because they weren’t worth much and the commitment to abandonment was more tiring than indifference they’d bleed out of eventually through some wound the way we saw it instead of being turned into recycled luxury goods for people who couldn’t afford them or fed to livestock bound for slaughter or burned for the sake of flame but people kept asking and sometimes we’d succumb to that ask because there was a levity to giving up to a disintegrating belief to being the freshly paved asphalt over a garden that once held roses once they were gone they seemed to come back less frequent and the man in the store said that was normal said eventually they wouldn’t come back at all and he couldn’t pay us for whatever was left but that was alright with us they were better wrapped around the fingers of a failing marriage or penetrating the holes of a collapsed cloud