Posted in Poetry, The Barista

dreamers are dangerous

Dreamers are dangerous.

Dreamers take the seed of an idea and let it take root in their heart.

Sometimes over years, sometimes over hours.

Dreamers believe in something better.

Something bigger.

Something different.

Dormant dreamers are even more dangerous.

Circumstances or nuances silenced the inner voice.

And they become like the masses.



Wallowing without realizing they’re drowning in normalcy.

Dormant dreamers forget.

But not quite.

When something awakens the dreamer, be it a question, a sunset, or an accidental escape to freedom, be wary.

Because a dormant dreamer starts to well up.

The loss of self becomes a catalyst.

The dreams, long rooted, are nurtured.


The dormant dreamer is dangerous, because there is lost time to be made up for.

There are memories to be built.

Time to be reclaimed.

A dreamer will find a way.

A dormant dreamer will forge one.



I'm a small town girl, loving big cities and isolated mountains. I befriend every third person I meet, and then hide for hours trying to get my energy back. I'm a barista, a nomad, a college grad. I'm a twentysomething getting lost and finding myself again. It's a little crazy, but I kinda like this thing called life.

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