Hey,
I got,
a complication.
It’s kinda,
sorta,
really dumb.
You’d call it,
stupid,
and possibly,
some sort,
of weird,
hallucination.
There’s this guy,
works down at,
the bus station.
He says,
this is nothing,
but a simulation.
And yeah,
I know,
it’s an eyeroll,
kinda situation,
but try to have,
some imagination,
ask more,
questions.
There’s this,
really cool dude,
he’s a bit crude,
not really that,
rude.
He swears,
no truly,
he dares,
that some of us,
aren’t from,
around here.
Yeah sure,
it’s laughable,
you’d say,
improbable,
but not completely,
impossible.
And if you knew,
what I do,
maybe you’d,
tie your shoes,
stop tripping,
on all these,
clues.
There’s this alien,
oops sorry,
his name is,
Allen.
He said it,
all started,
with his operation.
He says,
it happened,
while he was,
on vacation,
in Aruba.
Do you believe it?
They picked,
him up,
at a petrol,
station.
All he can do,
is sit,
and think,
about you.
Splash in puddles,
and skip pebbles,
all the while,
on the hunt,
for rainbows.
He swears,
honestly,
he dares,
it’s all,
true.

She bleeds,
the universe,
and cries,
shooting stars.
Like a princess,
out of her ballgown,
so out of,
place,
she lets freedom,
embrace.
With glitter,
in her hair,
she sparkles,
even at,
night.
I find myself,
finding pieces,
she left,
behind.
She ran,
so far,
she didn’t,
even think,
twice.
The palace just,
was never her,
place.

You walk,
through this world,
of black and white.
With your head down,
shoulders slumped,
and smile,
wiped clean,
off your face.
The trees,
no longer,
green.
What,
do you,
think,
if just,
maybe,
you touched,
a leaf?
Would it,
brighten up,
and scream,
at the dullness,
with color?
Along with,
the song,
no one else,
can sing,
you skip,
in splashes,
of puddles.
If you spin,
do you think,
when you made it round,
and round,
would the world,
spin too?

I like,
to spread,
myself,
so thin,
that you can,
almost,
see through,
my skin.
I have become,
crumbles,
at the bottom,
of a,
chip bag.
Basically trash,
not even,
worth,
a taste.
Am I really,
such a,
waste,
of space?
You told me,
I’m just a,
to be,
continued,
sitcom,
never to be,
resumed.
Is it,
really,
true?

She bleeds,
the universe,
and dances,
on stars.
Has the scent,
of flowers,
and personality,
like that of a,
thunderstorm.
Her voice,
sounds like,
a song,
you’ve never,
heard before.
Wearing nothing,
but the lipstick,
she doesn’t,
own,
and a smile,
with curls.

I see,
you seem,
to like it better,
when I,
tell stories.
So here is,
one for,
you.
Once upon,
a time,
you opened,
your eyes.
Early,
bright,
and full,
of dread.
Pulled yourself,
out of an,
unmade,
bed.
Tripped on,
the mess,
you left.
Stumbled down,
broke your,
neck.
Now you’re,
well,
dead.

Hey,
I know,
it’s been,
quite some,
time.
The thing that,
seems to last,
forever,
but we don’t,
have enough,
of.
Do you,
remember,
when we,
used to dream,
of the future,
that’s become,
the present?
It may not,
be exactly,
what we,
dreamt of,
but the clouds,
still make,
shapes.
Love always,
Me.

I always,
appreciate,
the plants,
that bloom,
when they’re,
not supposed to.
Because against,
all odds,
they grew,
into something,
brand new.

Do you know,
that fairies,
live here?
In the day,
they play,
in the leaves,
of trees.
At night,
while you dream,
they dance,
in moonlight.
They twirl,
on grass blades,
and blow bubbles,
to make morningdew.
Only few,
know that,
the fairies,
are ones,
to play tricks,
and make you sneeze,
more than one.
Do you know?