The Boy His Friends Forgot

And the doors wouldn’t close behind me and violent thoughts of decrepit anger rocked my head from side to side as I waited within these walls of darkness, waiting to be found by those who are also me. I wait here and I think to myself of the beauty that lies trapped here, I sit and I wait for the magic to empty out from within the hollow soul that inhabits this frail frame of caged enlightenment. And as I walk through these empty hallways in my mind, I can never reach out to the alleyways weaving in and out of the heart of a deserted island of untended visions and the schizophrenic clowns tell me tales of the circus. And the molten potion of childhood freezes within my infinite mindlessness while I smile at the fiddling innocence that keeps you from leaving Pan and visiting the netherworld of dangerous poetic beauty. And you look at me as you look now and you see nothing of the screaming heads of golden fairy-dust that keep me enchanted and keep me right here sitting on the comfort of beady eyes that hold the promise of Neverland. Go away, let me be.

That's My Bed, There, Look at The Corner

Where there are no dreams there will be no screaming and it is then that we shall find the time to sleep. Riding on the soft wings of the clouds so high up that the earth is just a figment of your imagination, you take a deep breath and into the mouth of the most unfathomable depths. Here I can sleep alone.