Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She speaks in riddles
She sings a song
Like sirens in the night
She writes her stories
She carries on
And prays that Owl's right
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She whispers secrets
She plays a game
While dancing swordless fights
She walks on tightropes
She kindles flame
And watches Bluebird's flight
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She spins a nightmare
She murders dreams
He pulls her heartstrings tight
She colors bracelets
She rips the seams
And curses Swallow's wight
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She breaks the dishes
She sets him free
Her conscience seems so slight
She talks to lions
She folds her knees
And waits for Magpie's knight
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She hears the music
She holds the threads
The shards of silver light
She sleeps with angels
She wakes the dead
And shakes from Falcon's might
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She answers questions
She grants his wish
Then nearly dies of fright
She hides from faeries
She blows a kiss
And ends poor Pheasant's plight
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
She pockets keychains
She fails escape
From lands of endless blight
She raids the thrift shop
She changes shape
And sees with Raven's sight
Ridley-ridley-ree
I see something you don't see
The Mockingbird is after me
You hear chaotic symphony
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Confusion
PoetryDiana Miller is schizophrenic...or at least she thinks so. She has never been clinically diagnosed because her father believes that mental illness is demon possession, and she knows he would never take her to a psychiatrist. To cope with her inner c...
