whats a boy to a man

Sleep loomed over him like the shadow of last night's bad decisions. Different boy, growing man, same old mistakes. He wished he had the balls to just ask him mother to hold him, but he couldn't think the same anymore. His heart that begged for tenderness and understanding was twisting into something else, something terrible and self-loathing. Perhaps that was what led him to dream this way.

He peeked around every corner of the color jungle like a spirit searching for it's charge. Was this another dream with them? The beauty that shines so brightly that his mind corrupts at the thought? What even were they? Would anyone ever compare to this dream? What an awful thing.

This dream was different. It wasn't eating him alive like it normally would have. He should remember that berry patch next time, or the mixture of substance, maybe it was just perfect enough to put him in a more positive mental state. Or maybe it was just rotten chance.

He looks like some kind of fallen angel, his pale golden softly glowing between the flickers of trees, though he thinks himself an ogre.

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