Rubbing the scars,
Magic lamp.
You are the genie,
That appears in my head.
Not with wishes,
Not with cures.
But I do while smile,
Why? I'm not sure.

Ideas of what,
We could be doing,
If not for,
All the walls.
You feel trapped,
I feel safe,
We both claim,
To have *****.

If I rub my scars,
Will you appear?
Or are you too close,
To be considered near?
You were happy in the past,
Why chance anything else?
If you do come visit me at my house,
I'll be smiling by myself.