With my art tools
I lay my head upon the short bright-green grass
looking up to the night sky full of memories
and the stars are shining as bright
as puppies’ eyes when you come home
after a long day
of life beating the hell out of you.

My fingers are already filled up
and the sky is as smooth
as a resilient lake lying in the middle of a forest.
The whole universe fall into my eyes
as they wide open
finding a blank space
between the distant sky.

Hands in the air,
memories start to pour out
like the new pen you bought the other day.

One stroke,
two strokes,
three strokes,
another after another.

To the left,
there’s a boy laying his head upon the short bright-green grass
alone.
To the right,
there’s someone laying her head next to him.
Holding hands
up in the air
we drew onto the sky a thousand dreams,
a million dreams,
a billion,
trillions,...

Sometimes I wonder.
If dreams really do exist,
should there not be another world
where I’m sitting on the moon
sipping milk tea
chanting perfect harmonies for the shining stars.
Then secretly I hope,
that he won’t fall down
and not wanting to climb up ever again.

Alone,
I watch as time goes by slowly
stuck with the anguish I could never tell.
Alone,
every night I sing lullabies
bringing myself into dreams where you come back.

Marlin found Nemo
Carl flew up to Paradise Hill
Remy became a chef
Merida sewed her fate
And yet I’m here,
telling stories to the distant twinkle in the sky.

Under that night sky full of memories,
the hazy dreams I embrace
as infinite as dazzling stars residing along the universe.
Under that night sky full of memories,
eyes witness shooting stars flying through
carrying my longing wishes to the faraway galaxies.

All those promises in the starry night sky
forever carved inside my heart.