Only to find that this illusion served a purpose
This perfection hid the reality
Hours of curling bangs
Eating celery and carrots
Holidays of presents wrapped in bows
Windows shut and locked
The nightly routine
Saturdays of sterility
Wiping away all evidence of messiness
Dirtiness
Chaos
This illusion hid wailing,
The beating of the forehead against the table
Ducking for cover
Knuckles worn down from the weight of punched walls
All to silence
Shame
The loss of love
Not replaced
I will no longer live this life
I say instead
Chaos leads to creativity
No comments:
Post a Comment