I miss the taste of my old dreams.
They used to be different.
They used to be scary, with a hint of foreign, definitely magical.
I liked them.
I loved the ones that had a sweet after taste.
I wanted to keep dreaming those the most.
I didn’t like the ones that were bitter.
All I saw were ghosts.
How can I forget the salty ones?
I’d be swimming in the sea.
But I did forget most of the bland ones.
They weren’t good enough for me.