wrap yourself in a tightly woven web of lies
a quilt of flawlessly fabricated fiction.
you hide beneath it.
at least it’s warm there.
live in story books transcribed upon chalkboards.
erase your fears.
you are safe, and nothing can touch you.
because your mind is a locked briefcase.
your dreams are solely yours.
you live in a reality of your own design.
you see it all through innocent eyes.
hear only what you want to hear.
the sound of shotgun shells and breaking glass drowned out by birdsong and peepers in the night.
upon a spinning wheel you mend a broken world.
you here them whisper softly,
“where is she?”
“Neverland.“
-- Written by my dear friend Jes @recycledlullabies
No comments:
Post a Comment