I am no stranger to other worlds,
I travel them day after day.
Adventure and fanciful stories unfurl,
And always they are as I say.

My head harbors mountains and skies that aren’t blue,
And armies of fairies and elves,
And people and places too good to be true,
And things that I don’t dare to tell.

The world that I live in has beauty indeed,
But anger and sadness abound,
And stories of youth have planted the seed,
For my own precious world to be found.

I have often considered letting go of that place,
To get my head out of the clouds,
It is true I’m no child, and I’m not fair of face,
Just one silly girl in a crowd.

But the more I forget, the more I create,
And the more I become someone more,
And the world that I live in is seeing a change,
From the person I have been before.

When she tells kids a story
that’s sweet, funny or gory
she is the monster or goat
on the bridge across the moat.

She is the scared child,
the lion or monkey who’s wild
her voice squeaks or roars
arms gyrate as if on all fours.

Wherever she sits she’s at ease
with children gathered at her knees
for they’re expecting to leave that place
by balloon, plane, or car in a race.

If you are in a room that’s near
it’s not hard for you to hear
kids laughing or shrieking
at whatever story she’s speaking.

The adults gathered nearby
have a glint in their eye
glancing at one another
for she’s also their mother.

i felt like i was in an elevator that was on the eighteenth floor,
but then dropped twenty more down, six feet deeper into the ground,
i was like a white rabbit, frozen in the headlights of a speeding car
with no chance of survival unless i took extreme measures to escape,
i tried and tried to make it out alive but in the end i died
like a train with it's passengers aboard.
that's how i woke up, in a sweat like a river,
for this is a dream i once dreamt,
the horses are coming so you better run if you want to survive
and make it out alive.
there's only one way out and that's to follow Alice.
darling, don't you know?
the good times are over and gone but dream on, dear, dream on,
it's a good feeling, i know.
the cats are out of the bag and the birds are loose,
so the feeling doesn't last long but enjoy it while you can
before our hearts and lungs collide.
the way you put one foot in front of the other and in line with mine
reminded me of when i saw you father and mother dancing one time
because if you think it through too many times,
it becomes a blur of reality and too many breaths.
i'm not calling you a thief, just don't steal from me,
cause i know i'm a decent tailor
from the many times that i've had to mend my heart with patches
of future love.
this old stuffed rabbit that i sleep with,
i've killed it with kisses and drowned it with tears
but it still has no reply to my wonderings.