A door in the mind blows open -
It floods with grey matter
And hot stares.

Ashes of darkness
Coupled with
Tears of growth

This is incomparable.
Roller-coaster rides
And unrecognisable mirrors;

We've steeped into a portal of surrealism:
With sins and judgement calls that question
The very essence of our hearts.

I really do not want to grow up.

I'm a pair of pigtails who can't
Climb up a step.
Push me, push me, but I can't reach.

When I feel my faith restored
In the overlap
Of green scenes and dental dexterity -
I can only think of one line to combust me:

*"He's just being nice."