To touch a childhood long forsaken
Where castles held up the sky.
No longer will the fingernail of God
Have to scratch reality aside.
A time I want, where smoke held the light in its grasp,
instead of being mere waste of fire.
That place I desire is where my every storm
were calmed by the music of her words.
When mud was a clothing I proudly wore,
and the sunlight the sweetest of kisses.
Before these moments where her words fade to tears
and my own dwell in them.
Where my arms were not pieces of tape
holding together her shards of glass.
When the trees and ground lurching around me
were products of a girl turned whirlwind;
not this eroding disease in this walking carcass.
To those time I believed I flew
through stars that held my hand.
When lines were just thin guides
but now are walls of a fortress high.
How I long to walk upon the wind,
turn this to a pale, cold dream;
knowing all of this to be
the correlation of a thin reality and everything else unseen.
. Like I said,