They say words flow
like the steady rain
but instead it comes
in slow drips, a leaky faucet
letting the ink cry tears
across the page.
Double-edged sword.
(She's built herself a castle
amid a desert land,
looking over cacti
growing in the sand,
waiting for Prince Charming
to take her by the hand.
If dreams come true, do nightmares too?)
All the things she couldn't say,
illegible scribbles and eraser peels,
hidden behind vague metaphors,
poetry bound in uneven stitches.
Read between the lines.
(She's escaped into an illusion
of monsters she has to fight,
daring escapes from villains,
battling them alone in the night).
she's imagined all these demons
They're really in her mind.
Do you see the writer
building up her world of lies?
Because somewhere between
happily ever after and
once upon a time
(she cried the tears the hero bled,
looked in the mirror to see into
her villain's head,
mapped out the city's lakes and streets
by tracing bruises and scars
that no one else could see).
She's no heroine.
But there's a whole world
she has to save, even if it's just herself;
There's a dystopia in her mind.
Nighthawk (Broken wings): Appearances, names, and even words can be deceiving. But you don't have to change yourself to fit expectations or hide yourself behind I'm fine's. Just be. Your happiness matters most.
YOU ARE READING
On Icarus Wings
Poesíabut what became of the boy whose dreams were carried on broken angel wings?
