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If I could go into my mind
Walk around
It would look like
A cute little bookshop
Old and rustic
Books overflowing on shelves
All containing the knowledge my mind holds
A few cobwebs
In high up places
Overstuffed chairs
Made for comfort
When I need it
I imagine an older lady
In charge of the store
Wise for my age
The thoughts of
An 80 year old
In a 14 year old's body
When I was younger
It was probably like the children's section
Pictures filled my mind
Giving me the imagination
To keep my innocence
For as long as I did
My mom would say
That a 36 year old
Ran the shop then
And I, the 7 year old
Was a common costumer

I wish I could
Just live in my mind
And not have to interact
With the outside world

Sometimes I like to think
The boys that I get infatuated with
Will visit my little bookstore
And search the shelves
While I hide in an overstuffed chair
And admire them from the distance

I could go on forever
With this metaphor
Of my mind
So I won’t

While those who read this
Get a quick glimpse
Into my bookshop
And if they look hard enough
They can see the dark haired girl
With a smattering of freckles
Sunk into a chair
With a book in hand
And a pen in the other
As she expands her knowledge
She finishes a book
And adds it to the shelf
Another day
Another adventure
Sometimes
I wish I could just sit
With a cup of hot cocoa
A book in hand
Draped in blankets
And watch the pink sunset out my window

Sometimes
I wish I could just stop everything
And take a nap
Whenever I wanted

Sometimes
I wish life was far more simple
Like it used to be

Sometimes
I wish I could freeze time
Or even time travel
To fix mistakes
To tell myself - why would you do that?!

Sometimes
I wish I could fly
Free like a bird
With no worries
But the next meal

Sometimes
I just wish
I could slow down
Put things on hold
And take a break
From life
I stand there
I can feel the bass
Thumping
As everyone is dancing
I stand there
With my arms feeling too long
Too big for my body
Embarrassed and uncomfortable
Something odd happens within
And a darkness bursts out
Of the light and cheery
That is always within me

And just like that
Goes my good mood
an odd experience I had the other day at a dance
usually I have lots of fun
but for some reason, I just was done
and I was kind of rude to some people -- which I regret
but I've thought a lot about it
and I think the reason I was so poopy, was because I was uncomfortable
and I wonder why that's never happened to me before

But I do hope, it doesn't happen again
With four legs
I am able to stand
But if they break like eggs
I will not work as planned
As I wobble on three, two or even one
Nothing can be placed on me
For my job will be done
Because my legs are the key
Without them I am nothing
I have no use except maybe for scraps
Believe me I’m not bluffing
Eventually I will collapse
And on that day
I know not what I’ll feel
Freedom or dismay
But that day holds strange appeal
kind of showing the way we may feel, if we're not needed
we might feel freed while others may feel like they have no purpose
I guess until that day - that does hold a weird appeal
we'll never know
I look out the window
Into the yard
I see a fluffy Junco
Sitting comfortably on the fence

I see him look around
Then fly over to the feeders
I watch as he gets some seeds
Then goes back to the fence
He puffs back up
And then out of nowhere
A baby Junco
Crookedly and excited
Flies in
Sits next to his dad
And his dad feeds him
And then his dad is off again
To get more food
For his baby

Over the weeks
I watch the Goldfinches,
The Grosbeaks, the Finches,
The Doves, and
The Sparrows.
All gathering on the fence
With their families
To eat
And I am reminded
Of my family
Gathering around the dinner table
Everynight
Chattering, coming and going
But then I think
That those birds must have it far easier
Than we do
All they worry about is surviving
While we have discussions on
Politics, school, wars
Gossip, rumors, things of unimportance

That's when I think back
To my childhood dream
“I want to be a bird when I grow up”
Because they are worry free
Unlike me
Piping hot
Gooey and fluffy
Rolls of dough
Swirled
With sugar
Cinnamon
And butter
And on the top
Slowly oozing
Melting down the sides
Is glaze
Or frosting
Whichever
Is your cup of tea

This miraculous invention
Forever changing
Human life
As we know it
A cinnamon roll
The most amazing
And tasty
Thing known
To mankind
Or is it dead?*

Black which is not
The color of my soul
Black that is all things
Rough, hard and scary
Black is threats, is hurt,
Is wrong, is *****

Black is hard to get rid of
An annoying stain
That stays far too long
Eventually you give up
Because no matter how close
You are to pure white
The decisions
You wrote in black
Will always stain your mind
Even if it's a small dot
Moving back into your mind
Even if you never think of it
It's still there
Irreversible
Unchangeable

Black is rough
And tough
It's daunting
And evil
In its luring ways
Scaring you
Until you give in
To the decay

Black is cold
Black is solid
Black has no qualities
That anyone should want
Unless
You welcome
The destructive and penetrating
Emptiness
That could enter
Your soul
Part of the Living Colors Collection
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