How cold was the night when Belle learned to love a horrid beast?
How bright was the evening when Wendy chose to never leave?
How silent was the dark when Aurora was sound asleep?
How selfish was the midnight when Cinderella’s shoe fell off her feet?

Now, those are magics and princesses made up of fiction and fantasies;
We are blood and flesh made up of atoms and reality
Who are forced to believe someday we'll be as lucky
To have our own kind of sweet tell-a-tale stories.

But how cold was the night when you waited for someone to come back?
How bright was the evening when you wished upon a shooting star on the sky?
How silent was the dark with your sobs and tears that were left to cry?
How selfish was midnight when you realize no one's returning as you look at the clock?

It all happens after AM
when the night was cold
while the evening was bright
the dark was silent
and the midnight was selfish.

— 𝙘𝙗.𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙

I want to tell a story but I don't know where to start.
See, I've kept the words hidden.
Locked away inside my heart.
Waiting for the day that you come find me.
Waiting for the day you rescue me from the darkness in my heart. Yeah, I know you'll set me free.
Free from all the doubts and lies I thought I had to tell myself.
So worried about the thoughts and words from everybody else.
It took me years to understand that life is not a race.
If you make your own path and stay with it,
someday you'll find your place.
I don't want to wait anymore.
I don't want to feel I've wasted my life
waiting for a fantasy that may never be real.
I want to prove I can be happy without you by my side
so I'll give it one last shot and tell the story of the time I tried

I was busy chasing rainbows, dragons, and unicorns
I probably caught a leprechaun or maybe the Jackalope
Do I regret being busy? Nope!

I was busy solving the world’s problems with love’s power
So busy I forgot to shower
And grew my personal jungle
Where I was busy chasing tigers with the help of bears and panthers

If I say I was busy
I was actually a bee
or maybe a bee’s knees
Because nothing’s more busy
than a bee collecting pollen

If I tell you I am busy
A volcano exploded,
and my path’s corroded
by lava pits perilous
and hungry magma monsters

If I tell you I am busy
I may be counting sheep
for little Bo Peep or to sleep
Trying to cuddle with my stuffed buds

If I tell you I’m busy,
I’m busy in a way most people may not understand
but you do, because you’re grand
~
NM
03/17/20

*for Harly

How could you commit ******,
but it be called two different things?

There was no difference in our actions,
only the side of the battlefield we were standing on.

I knew the truth though, I always have.
I was just like them, a cold-blooded killer.

The only difference was the uniform I wore and the man I pledged allegiance to.

For a few weeks there is now a lock-down:
In my dreams I am wand'rin 'round the town,
Visiting places I've not seen before,
Now that I am behind a bolted-door.
To every beauty spot my mind will float,
Oft-times in my imaginary boat.
Where'er I go is colourful and bright -
My mind's eye has given me supersight.

writing poetry on your skin
your fantasies are our ink