Dreaming Wide Awake

I know the sky is blue and the grass is green. That light of day and night comes from stars, near and far. I hear the chatter of people. But in the dead of night, as my eyes plead to close. I tell myself a story. A story of green skies and blue grass. Of starless skies contrasted by electric lamps. Some tales of loneliness with some emptiness on the side. And the characters, from the big to the small. Not a detail is left out. Their wants and desires become my own. Their dreams of reaching the top of the sky make me want to fly. The urgent desire to run and survive. The way I jerk awake with every doze. The countless days passed of compiling these stories in my brain, hoping and praying not to forget. The half-finished titles of legends. I wish sleep grasped that no dream it could give me is better than simply keeping my eyes open for a few more seconds.