Those Who Dream of Stranger Worlds
Oh my darlin', you’re like the ruler of the lost boys. So mixed up in your head that you fly away from it all. Like a modern-day Peter Pan, you cling to anything that is of a comfort, trying to find your way home, believing you can cover it up with a fake smile and an inspirational tone as you talk about misplaced happiness. No, my darling. You’re dying inside and only you can pull yourself out of the darkness that has captured your barely recognizable soul.
Stinging from the frustration that came about from looking into social lives of tease, it’s as clear as crystal waters that your tears are a sour taste from the pain of mistakes you can’t quite seem to ease. Torment, you’re in your head and you can't get out. Lies are told as you further yourself into a screeching, unforgettable shout.
The noise heightens to the point of no return as you make a choice to run back into familiar arms, so outstretched and open that even I can't deny how inviting they appear. To no surprise there’s a catch to win, you will only be taken back on sole condition. You’re dealt a punishment for your sins.
It’s here you hope you’ve been found with belief that she’s your honey elixir, the magical touch that will drag you out of your eclipse of a gooey dark, grey and black mixture. Just like Peter Pan, running off to Neverland, I leave you here for your sentence as you serve your time that's filled with momentary happiness. That is the funny thing about moments. They’re never lasting, soon becoming a reminiscence, fading into the distance. You’re full cycle back to your dim reality that you tried so hard to fade away from. Is it too soon for me to say, “I told you so?”
Deleted scenes from my memory as I erase all trace of you. Betrayal holds no room in my life. Still, I wish for your happiness as my mind is wiped spotless where finally my heart can breathe. Goodbyes are made clear as I wish to never hear from you again, although, not before I can say with my last breath; “remember when I told you, that you reap what you sow.”
Sitting back to open a different kind of book, our main character is an interesting, yet obvious choice. His ploy is to have fun and keep things off text. I see right through this one which causes me to instinctively to withdraw in fear, however a wounded ego trying to cover up its fresh bruise has another idea.
Just go with it, I'm told, so many times as I'm coerced into making a spontaneous decision. I've been stepped on and used so many times in a row that I'm not certain how much more I can take. Do I dare walk into another vision of obvious heartbreak? Or do I crawl back into safety, only to read about adventures and happy endings from the comfort of my books where at least I know for certain that the only love here is of fairytale existence, unlike my reality where it will remain for now, a firm, strict resistance.
Model: Kaily Emma Smith @kailyemmasmith