it’s

 a world

encased in a broom closet

where dreams expand like balloons swept away.

it’s

where colour is leached from petals

curled into bleached thorns.

it’s

a paper boat floating

amongst pilotless paper planes,

shadowed by pouring shredded paper

on a paperless queen’s parade.

it’s

a loss in belief

with no confessional relief

not while the triggers turn

it’s

remaining chained to tastes yearned

showing sometimes acceptance

can be emptier than loneliness

it’s

an emotional minefield

where dreams are reaped

& souls are minded

it’s

the rain trickle of a memory erase

to extend hope on a unicorn chase

past mountain masts

towards a stellar cast

across the ballooned moon’s whiskers

where solitude speaks of dreamt stolen time whispers

it’s

the eternal fool

led by a broken watch

to become the mists’ master editor

for the now and forever chase for that pocketful of paper