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