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Feb 10
Rough, sandy
Malodors of Brandy
Unlimited space
Yet strangling

Dark, hollow
Look again
Fell deep in the hole
Cannot breathe in this loophole

Wind wafting through its cardboard
The more I think about it
The cooler it gets

I had one similar
When I was just a mere familiar
Horsing around it as if it was my home
What made it comfortable
It was always locked
It was always not a liar

It was better than anyone
I do not know what kind of sorcery it used
But it always eased my fuse
When I am confused, in a ruse
I can breathe after all

You can imagine anything there
Flap its sides as if you are in a plane
You can paint animals, forests anytime
Unlike reality

Turn it into castle
Or a storage of treasure
A hideout
Military base
Safe and sound

Quiet, does not shout
Does not turn angry
Cut, it will not yell
Not misunderstanding
Attachment syndrome with a non-living thing
So are these ghosts surrounding

My philosopher's brain is no match for society
Add that with my dash of absolutism
I played along with the appropriatey

But why, did it betray me now?
The more I stayed
The more I get scared
Tsunami of bad dreams slapped me
Cannot get out
But nowhere to shelter to

Feeling I do not need aid
It is better to sabotage my faith
On my own
Than admitting that I am terrified
Sensitive like the morning flower
Than to be hurt by the outside
Than involving anyone
Since everybody around me are dunces

So stay
Once more
Get this occupied
Even if it is already roaring to break free

Where no one will see me
See me be myself
Abnormal self
Weeping, childish self
And come back again and again
Penne
Written by
Penne
38
 
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