stop believing in storybooks, fairy tales, flights of fancy are just that, flights of fancy, an unreal world, not quake or doom, but as such, dreams go the way of hard reality, when faced with the world, to shatter, crumble, dust sifting through fingers, a world apart, and normalcy sets in, speciality goes out the window, fingernails, tips too white, long, clouds and rain fall from the sky, serial killers in the future, sleep waiting, layouts on soft sand, between the toes, hot from the blazing italian sun, not a sofa, on which bags full of groceries, peanut butter and jelly, swedish fish next to twix and snickers, coffee clouding the mind clouded by being awake for too long, by not sleeping enough, fogged in