I'm stuck in my head,
on purpose.
My subconscious is a meadow.
My safe,
calming
meadow.
My sanctuary of green,
with flowers of gold and white.
Trees surround me.
A wall that sways in the wind,
and blockes reality.
Silent.
Tranquil.
Mine to behold alone.
Were I write my favorite poetry.
- sometimes being pensive is a good thing
