It is only at night that the fairies come.
Scattering petals,
with imagined promises.
Clouds of sleep waft through the air.
Breathing dreams,
that have gone stagnant and stale.

For it is our greatest fear.
Taking control,
of our solitary fate.
So instead we plead the fairies.
Passing tasks,
to our mirages of hope.

We are brought in as children.
Whispering words,
at clock faces and night stars.
Told, ‘everything happens for a reason’.
Crying tears,
but 'it’s not our fault'.

As we grow older, we find out the truth.
Learning facts,
about the way that we live.
So what’s left of us?
Throwing dreams,
to a paradise made of plastic.

Yet we all stay in line.
Obeying orders,
and wishing for better.
One day we’ll realise, with
sickening dread.
Nobody is coming to save us.

It is only at night that the fairies come.
Destroying ambitions,
as we encourage them.
And what do they leave behind?
Deserting favours.
Taking off their magic wings.

Left as shells of who we could be.
Following, mindless.
Forgetting, almost, that we are alive.
We wait forever, living only in death.
Needing change,
but begging the fairies. And doing nothing.

“In silence.” I say,
“In silence” I say, “we speak.”
No words need float between us.
Hopes hover, our secrets to keep.

Breaths trickle, heartbeats thunder,
But words remain withheld,
The beginnings of thoughts,
At our lips quelled.

Paper shields hang between us,
Halting our speeches.
We move them aside with gentle kisses,
As quiet as solitary preachers.

Fingers on lips,
Our eyes smile.
A flower of silence blooms between us,
Thinking not speaking, all the while.

“In silence.” I say,
“In silence we speak.”