Awesomeness is the
Wonder of life, like an
Egg, that would
Soon hatch
Open, to release
More yet awesome
E**ggs

I am free
and joyous
and grateful
and kind
but I am not creating.
I cannot.

My eyes glued shut.
My lips sewed together.
My hands chopped off.
My body closed by the same monsters that slit my wrists and changed my name.

The storm has passed but the damage has not.
The demons won't release their claws around my throat nor the teeth that sink into my chest.

Ideas and images run at uncharted speeds,
racing and buzzing past every corner of my mind.
Where do I put them?
Where do they go?

I'm trying to find her again:
the girl who painted fairies & danced without socks & wrote stories about ghosts and mermaids.

Those pixies, bare feet and adventures are still floating.
Waiting to be spilled out onto a page, a canvas, a body; any surface worth noticing.  

The thoughts have been patient and kind for too long.
I fear they won't wait any longer.
They urge and itch to be set free, but without any luck, they melt.

They boil and drip into what can only be described as gone.  
I fear that once gone; they will forever be lost.

I am not inventing, I am not expressing.
I am simply wasting, hoping someone else might construct things for me.
I am not creating.

Two hearts clang
but
never open

Tears fall
but
are never caught

Flames arise
but
are never fanned

Minds connect
but
are never spoken

I
Suddenly, I'm nostalgic,
for the times when life was simpler,
and we were blind to the evil that dwelt amongst its thrushes
where we played.
We coloured its black and white pages
with crayons,
and placed them somewhat carelessly
into the folders of our memories.
Now we constantly search for them,
and the joy that was once ours.

II
The dark was my sworn enemy,
but now I embrace it with open arms.
Curiosity was once my dear friend,
now I've all the answers I never wanted.
Questions continue to bloom
in my garden of knowledge
and I let them die.
Afraid to know the truths,
I would rather nourish the lies
I have planted.

III
Suddenly I am nostalgic,
for the times when life was simpler;
when I could admire the roses,
without glancing at their threatening thorns;
when I could freely laugh,
and not feel the tears behind my eyes;
when I could dream my whole world up,
and not fear it will come crashing down.
Ignorance was really bliss,
and freedom, never my wish.

Open the chamber of doors
and
walk back
to the place you want to exist
once more