somewhere there is a world where a dream catcher is just a pretty thing with feathers that hangs above one’s bed. a simple decoration in the popular girls room…she doesn’t even know what it is,

but it was trendy three summers ago.

so there it hangs

above her bed.

not because she believes in it

but because she has forgotten about it.

that world is not this world.

our dream catcher has name

and she is envied above all

though only i know her secret —

for_ i am her_

night after night

i weave…

the sweet dreams of lovers,

the curious dreams of children,

the wonder filled dreams of wanderers.

night after night their secret fears weigh me down. the web that brings peaceful dreams to others entangles me

_drowns me_

my friends say they like my robe of feathers

and my soft spoken words

but they don’t really see me.

because i can’t show them.

for it’s my job - my curse - to _filter_.

filter out the bad and leave the good.

so no one can know of my curse.

of my web.

_of my snare. _

i wouldn’t tell them anyway.

for it’s their biggest fears — their biggest nightmares — that create my monsters.

so they’ll sleep sound.

until the day their nightmares finally snuff my light. and they find me —

_hanging in my robe of feathers. _