walls.

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invisible. invincible, too.

I turn into a fort. this solitude, once saved me, you know.

it became my home of dreams and make-beliefs.

torrentially heart-warming fantasies.

and now, reality.

sweet. blessed. but exhausting.

once I was a committed audience, 

now but an actress.

I dream to go home, even while I lie in arms of the one I love.

I dream to be where I don’t anymore.

when I don’t have to make this real,

when my dreams could float into scapes of reveries.

how can I be who I am?

how can I be that unspoken, that chimerical?

but I’m expected now to live up to love.

with courage, through my flaws.

but this is not what I want.

my solitude tastes of abandonment, but the bitterness is what I crave.

the over-indulgent spiral.

and never wanting to be saved.

he looks at me with his sober eyes,

his words sweet, his arms safe,

still I let go.

still I hold on to what I know.

tortured, left behind, invisible.

almost a figment from a faraway land.

I want to be like that.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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