Mine...

In this tale, I can only speak for myself.

For everyone else has their own story lost on the shelf.

Here, in a land fairly normal, I tend get lost in glorious raptures,

Swirling along the currents of life so elegantly it captures

You in its sweet hallucinations, and takes you far far away.

Where to? I can’t really say,

But all I know is that this place is somewhere I long to be

When I’m bound by gravity and standards. This place here, I can be free.

I say that a lot… free… as if I am bound by chains.

And spending my days and nights picking grains.

My life is simple, yet not so pretty. But my wounds will heal soon,

They won’t  stay long enough to stain this pure spirit and deepen its tune,

It remains light as I pick up what was left of me and carry on.

It remained ever so ravishing while I’ve gone

And built myself the armor to withstand life’s shooting knives.

This music that plays from my heart can save lives.

But it only chose to save one. And I am grateful.

I am happier... even though I ignored these shackles on my tender core turning me hateful.

Blackening something that was once so divine,

Now its hard to even tell that it was once mine.

I have changed, and not for the better. I hurt without any reasons

My moods changes ever so often like the seasons.

And the light of innocents fled from my bright eyes,

Turning them as black as the night skies.

So when I say I’m free. I’m free from the monster within.

This place takes me out of my body and to a place without sin.

I close my eyes and I see a person I wished to be, but was too afraid to become.

I shut my lids and can’t see the hurt I’ve done to some.

But the joy that I’ll soon bring.

Along with the triumphant songs we’ll sing.

In this place we’ll celebrate the beauty of rebirth,

And the magnificent adventures on this earth.

But First; I have to open my eyes, and get my head out of the clouds.

Because this fairly normal land is loud

When it shouts the truth. Its blunt when it shows me all my flaws

And laughs hysterically when I think I can run from them all.

This land, this mythical paradise can’t exist in a heart tarnished with hate.

No, stained with the assumption I’ll suffer from the same fate

Of the ones whom didn’t make it this far. Paradise is just a dream

To a girl with a heart ripped at the seams.

Paradise is just a lie

Created by the girl who watched her mother die,

Way before she even took her last breath,

Paradise, at least the one for me does not exist for me.

Because this is not a tale for he, or she.

They’ve found it. They conquered it.

This is a tale from a girl that took life’s hit,

And lost herself along the tides of illusions of her broken dreams.

And the millions of treasured memories it seems.

No this isn’t a tale for you.

For my heart leaks when I say all that’s true.

This tale isn’t for you…it isn’t for you.

It’s for me…

~Imani