she's reaching out
through a hole
in the bricks
her mind has made
she can't connect
it reminds her
of the past
she is afraid
she builds the walls
plays a part
and puts on
a masquerade
if only she
could be her
and not this
dream she portrayed
she's reaching for
another hand
but it's blurred
and she's dismayed
YOU ARE READING
Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort
RandomThey tell me that what I create is chaos. But what I create is the only thing that brings me serenity. ~ warning: this book abruptly switches from deep personal narratives to really random stuff so hop on and enjoy the ride
