Doesn’t it seem like the moment 

you begin dreaming in vivid color, 

it all falls apart? And now it’s just

something else to wash out of your 

sheets and your favorite shirt. 

The thoughts that used to keep you

buoyant on the most ordinary

days become the compunction that

you’re damned to drag around

with every step. 

For a moment, 

you really thought you had it–

but if you could tell yourself the 

truth for a second, you’d admit you 

always felt its itchy impermanence. 

Nevertheless, your belly fills with the dread 

of one or a hundred actions you could 

have taken, as if it could still be 

salvaged with enough overthought. 

As if you don’t know it never could.

But it’s so exhausting to think 

about dreaming again, about wading 

into a brand new garden 

to pluck a stranger’s roses.


Author Bio:

Caroline Warner is a writer and editor based in Boston. She is a 2020 graduate of the University of Vermont, where she composed an undergraduate thesis consisting of a collection of poetry written in response to the fragments of Sappho.