really bad justwrite

Your lavender fields are resting on my eyelids while low muffled voices fade into my skin. The sun is growing every day and the moon is closer than I remember even though you keep telling me I'm just taller now. Years are fading into my dreams where friends I haven't met yet gather in giant rooms and your legs are all I see, becoming tree trunks as the bark strips away at my feet, and the tiniest fish swim through the holes in my net and into my cupped hands. I want to grow gills so I can live where it's quiet and even my thoughts come to me in ripples. Here it doesn't matter when I forget what to say because everyone is facing the corners of the room, whispering to themselves recipes for sesame pretzels and pancakes shaped like rainbows or candy canes or the cane in my grandmother's closet, the one she leaves in the grocery store and doesn't remember until her knee screams and the benches are all full and I watch her fingers trembling on the hand rail, fingers so light they are moths chasing the sun, parting the air in front of her lips while she waves away my concern. She keeps her bedroom door open at night and pushes the stool in the living room against the wall before she can fall asleep, and her Scrabble game has no "x" because she never knows what to do with it. The walls in my house are becoming shorter every day until the ceiling cracks open against the furniture and I'll be able to see the stars when I can't sleep, taste rain while I'm showering and know the world won't end before I can run to the window and watch.