once upon a time, there was a question asked, seemingly simple to answer.
"i wonder what it's like in your funny little brain..."
dry, like bread that remained outside of its plastic cocoon for far too long.
spoiled, like month old milk left carelessly near the cereal box.
lonely, like a wandering cat in the cold autumn rain.
buzzing, like a bee dashing towards intoxicatingly delectable honey.
exciting, like seeing illusions at a circus for the first time through the eyes of a credulous six year old.
but most of all, dreading the thought of becoming an agnostic adult who only sees the world in black, white, and patent green.
and apparently poetic.
