Young Writers Society

2019 | 2020

standing in the shower
with the water
pounding on my skin,
i realized i had become
a visionary.

castles sprawled before
my closed eyes.
i could see the roughness
on the corners of each stone block.
i could follow
the neverending spiral
of forgotten passages
into the dark dungeons down below
and feel a chill
as a cold wind
blew through
a broken window.

i could stand in the streets
and listen to the chatter
of the elves selling
their wares as a group of
armor-clad guards
bumped into my shoulders
on the way to their
next shift.

i could feel the soft earth
underneath bare toes
and hear the humming of
the crickets as lightning bugs
swarmed the twilight
around me.
i could dance underneath
the moonlight and towering oak trees
and feel the forest swing with me, too.

and when i opened my eyes
and gripped the wet, metal faucet
in my wrinkled hands,
the forests and kingdoms and towns
were just as real
as the water dripping off
the hair plastered to my forehead.