I can see the smile,
mimicking the crescent.
Hovering by the curtain,
peeking, prodding, Pushing.
But nothing seems as fake
as the flowers in that gilded vase.
Waiting to bloom, in shrouded anticipation.
Filled with disgust at the life they sustain,
So young, so naive.
Foolishly trusting.
Scorn curling my lips,
I walk away.
Leaving everything behind.
Everything that anchors me to this bottomless void.
Forsaking...Freedom.