As a child my mother would read stories
as I hung around her neck,
and she would stroke my hair,
lulling me to sleep
with visions of two lovers
overcoming their inner demons.
In the end, they'd live happily ever after.
    
    As an adult now,
    I bear this in mind.
    My lover and I both battle inner demons
    But his author strays,
    unlike mine,
    leading him to far-off lands,
    diving into waters so deep. . ...
    I thought we would live happily ever after,
    
    But his mind is a different story