I remember being five,
Just learned how to read.
I barely got words right
But it kept my mom happy.
I didn’t like books,
They were scary to me.
But then I picked this one up,
From a shelf that was dusty.
And old leather cover,
Torn and abused.
This book was through war,
Through many boxes that moved.
I felt like Indiana Jones,
Discovering something new.
This book was so foreign,
Yet so close to my home.
I opened it up, peered at what’s inside,
Old pages, faded colors, letters that sighed.
I started reading the stories,
Escaping to worlds.
Where witches ate children,
Two brothers hunted for trolls.
There were turtles racing,
Foxes that schemed.
Big castles with princes,
Towers with wizards inside.
A genie, a prophet,
A tyrant to rule the land.
I was lost in those pages,
In the many worlds of dismay,
So colorful, so heavenly,
I think I shall open it today…
I don’t write for justice,
Or to say what’s right and wrong.
I write to escape the greyness,
That I feel in my world.
I write about my feelings,
About the depths of my mind.
I write to make you see,
What I feel, for you to understand.
I write to escape, to see skies,
Blue as a river on a summers day.
I write to see dragons and pixies,
The big bad wolf hunt his prey.
I want to see the high elves,
The dwarves of misty tops.
To see wizards and witches,
Fight for what’s good in the world.
Maybe you don’t see it,
But that’s what I do.
Write crazy stories, poems,
And complaints about personal issues.
I sat in the closest park to my shitty neighborhood,
It had few benches, some grass and I think roses too…
It was fairly boring really, close to the road…
It had few ducks in the pond that stopped to grow…
People said it was so beautiful, so full of life,
I only saw the dying of any kind of light.
I remember once, I saw a couple there,
They were old, ancient, yet they sat there…
On an old rusty bench that started to smell,
They sat there, told each other of times they shared.
When their skin was not dry and the lights hadn’t died,
When the trees were just blooming and the ducks still grooming.
When their hears were still young and barely touched,
That’s when they said of how much they loved.
I smiled at them, knowing I was once again wrong.
The park wasn’t that terrible as I have told.
I like dreaming about pointless and foolish things,
Like ever green plains with tress as far as the eye can see.
I want to think that I can get away from being wrong,
From being in pain and feeling so afraid of every little thing.
I feel like I will never be the same as I once was,
When I was little with my little ideas and fun.
I remember dreaming of giants, knights and kings.
Protecting the kingdom from very evil things.
Exploring the deep ocean, creating a cure,
Making people happy with a stupid slur.
I remember dreaming of being clearly heard,
My wishes granted and my hopes unfold.
Things were so better, when I was just six,
I didn’t have to learn how to deal with human-ish things.
Now I feel pressure and stress, loneliness build up,
Soon I will probably break and declare that I am once again stuck.
I will continue to chase my hopes and my dreams,
Protecting them from the eyes that don’t believe.
I hope I will prevail, to save this burning kingdom of mine,
Hope I don’t get eaten by a dragon of the mind.
I don’t need much, I really don’t,
I survived and been well on so much less.
But now that I tasted, a small bit of it,
Could you give all you’ve got, be my everything?
I want you to ask me, how I am today,
You know the answer well but just ask for the hell of it.
I really want you, to say something nice,
Something sweet to make it all right.
Do you mind, me sitting quietly right there?
Where you can hear me breath and sniffle the air.
But do you know, that on the other side, I am not okay…
I am crying and breaking and simply fading away?
I sat there crying, saying be right back…
Can you just ask me, why I act like that?
I don’t believe in fancy words,
In promises that it won’t hurt.
I don’t believe I’m good enough,
Or even slightly above the stupid bunch.
I don’t believe in your okay’s
Or all the times you said it’ll turn out great.
I don’t believe in my ability to speak,
To make others understand and feel.
I don’t believe in a happy ending,
Because I live in envy and hate.
I don’t believe that I will ever be just okay.
But somehow I found a bigger idiot than me,
Who for some reason started to believe
I don’t know what, you see in me.
But be sure I’m glad, that you believe in me.
Parties are strange, they’re so freaking loud,
All those warm bodies shouting out loud.
At the top of their lungs, with beautiful smiles,
As they chuckle and drink and forget life for a while.
I sat in the corner, of the biggest room,
Where lights were so bright I just didn’t know what to do…
I tried to get a drink, but I don’t like the taste,
So it’s just me being sober, having fun in my brain.
I thought I had a friend here, now I really don’t know,
I saw them having fun so, might as well just let that one go…
Yes, I’m jealous, I know I’m not fun, I shy away from everyone,
Especially when they start to have more fun.
Then they got drunk, beyond understanding,
Crawling on the floor and asking for medicine.
I tend to their needs, while they don’t even know my name,
They just call me strange names and forget that I am there…
Come to think of it, it’s always the case,
Where life is a party and I’m just slowly burning away.
Trying to enjoy but it all just melts away,
With my heart, my soul and feelings of pain.