Sometimes I escape
To a far away place
Where the screams are muffled
And the tears dry up
Where my memories can slowly fade away
Today I went to that place
And tonight I have to return
To my reality
Where the screams take place
The tears turn red
And the memories become nightmares

Don't be afraid of my poetry.
They are just products of my
mental lab given to you for
testing.

the way you whisper my name in the dark and early hours of the morning, is my drug.
and you my dear, are the syringe

maybe the love i feel for you now will slowly rot away into bottomless pain.
but i rather risk it all for you, my wildflower.

i am strong.
i am handsom.
i am smart.
i am caring.
i am perfect.

i am a lair.

I stand before the narrow window
and see more clearly more deeply
in this smaller space
than my years with the picture window
and its crowd calling for attention.