So seductive; offering guarantees of hope and happiness yet allows you to get lost. Funny right? She says to shut your eyes, gently. Surely it's not your moment right? Surely you will wake up in the arms of the sun; to the songs of the birds you're unsure whether or not you want to understand.

So you close your eyes.

She sneaks up on you and whispers stories into your ears, insinuating visions you can only dream of. A storyteller. She holds your head in the warmth of her promises and the cradle of her lies, weaving stories in the ditch with all the overturned cars on the side of the road. Are they really lies?

And you wake up.

She is something far more different than you could have imagined. She is so far gone; no way to turn back. Wishing the mirror on the wall showed an upside down image so you wouldn't have to relive the torture of seeing yourself. It's astounding really. The wrinkles.

When did they get there?

When did I get here?

The days tie themselves together and throw each other off a cliff. A routine ingrains itself into the corner of your brain that gnaws at every muscle fiber when you miss your favorite TV show; that whispers to you at night and shows you blood stained walls. As over dramatic as it sounds you know what I mean. There's no more. Really. There isn't.

She wakes you up before she takes you. You see her dashing red face looking cold into your eyes, and you wish for more.

But she can't give you any.

Time can only tell.