At night, my mind is fraught with sweet sinful nothings.
I push them away.
I refuse to eat.
In the days turmult, I cry,
wishing for the sky blue cottage filled with a pitter-patter of little feet
and a chemise of warmth on my shoulders.
basking in the summer's glow.
Here I knowing that I am at peace.
That I am safe.
Screams, anger, lies slash what has been so preciously created.
Always shattering,proving what I see to not be reality.
Looking aside,I sigh knowing I must endure the hate.
But time isn't a kind wait.
So I crawl back into my shell,
hit my head up against the bricks.
There's no warm chemise,sky blue cottages, or even kids for that matter,
but it's still a comfort to relenquish and get away.