How innocent. First thoughts like a child’s simplicity of mind.

Momentarily there is freedom.

Mere seconds this time. Freedom nonetheless.

There is something in the corner.

Looming.

Controlling.

Somehow forgotten in the ignorance of slumber. Suffocating memories slip through the cracks of a fragile mind.

Conscious to a stomach now twisting with knots. Flittering and fluttering of delicate wings.

Tendrils of blackness penetrate. Clinging to every fiber of being.

Carefully step into your refined façade.

Smile when necessary. Laugh when appropriate.

How are you?

Are you okay?

So easy it is to believe your own white lies.


© Jordan Costigan