drift off to sleep
and enter a land of wonder
where skeletons walk around
without clothes
exposing their bones
and showcasing how hollow
they’ve all become.
trees are really people
who rip out their hair
when it gets cold
and birds whisper secrets
in uneasy ears.
the moon projects light,
iridescent to set the mood,
and what once was,
becomes no more.
kaleidoscopes of butterflies
lead the way,
down, down, down
winding roads
and into the open fields
where innocence is reborn.
you swirl around and around
faster and faster until
all you see are the
smears of color
painted
on a midnight blue star speckled canvas
and when you wake up...
everything is not how it seemed before.
