lagoons deep with their waters a murky verdigris
a thousand sunsets had set and sailed
the trees and their emeralds glistening from storms past
a head amongst flowers, resting in their pastel bunches, peering up at the whisps of clouds smearing the sky
how long can I stay in this dream, how long before it disappears like everything once before it.

Perhaps
The gentle sigh of the wind in the trees
The giggle of the mermaids that live in the stream
The happy and casual conversation between birds floating high above
Every rock's jagged surface, laced with soft moss and dew
And bittersweet candy that lingers on my lips and fingers
Perhaps
These are good things.

when you press my keys
and pluck my strings
when you compose your song
don't ignore the drum in my chest
she's the conductor anyway.

I sewed myself back together
Or so I thought.
I picked up every piece and threaded my needle
Sat and worked till the moon disappeared again.
And every day I sailed
Every shore I kissed
Tore my delicate lines
Here I find myself once again
Tattered and wheezing
I'll have to buy new thread then.
I can't salvage all the pieces this time either
Some of them don't fit anymore.
I guess I'll have to find new ones.

A definition that I clung to
As if my actions need defining
As if my characteristics need meaning
As if what belonged to me, my image,
Truly was never mine.

the voice in my head isn't mine and I don't like her very much
sometimes she says things of value
but most of the time she makes me hoard things that aren't good for me
I'm afraid she's making making me sicker
someday, maybe, I'll be louder than her