Her name was Mystery
She loved poetry, so I thought I’d write her some
Hangnails always lived on the sides of her thumbs
The same thumbs she used to type up her future book ideas with
Music flowed through her body like waves in the ocean
She fell in love with characters she’ll never meet
But she had so much hope
Optimistic, she was
She danced with the hillsides of mountains
And taught me about aliens
She swore she was from Elsewhere
I guess Mystery is trapped inside a fake reality
A world she created herself
Mystery loved movies
She told me she wanted to be in some, one day
But I told her she didn’t need to be fictional
And she said
“Maybe I already am”
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:57 AM UTC
Her name was Mystery
She loved poetry, so I thought I’d write her some
Hangnails always lived on the sides of her thumbs
The same thumbs she used to type up her future book ideas with
Music flowed through her body like waves in the ocean
She fell in love with characters she’ll never meet
But she had so much hope
Optimistic, she was
She danced with the hillsides of mountains
And taught me about aliens
She swore she was from Elsewhere
I guess Mystery is trapped inside a fake reality
A world she created herself
Mystery loved movies
She told me she wanted to be in some, one day
But I told her she didn’t need to be fictional
And she said
“Maybe I already am”
