Places
There were soul crevices,
mind holes, caves
cut into the walls
of daydreams, places
deep enough to hide in
and be used as a refuge
when the world began
to pick you apart -
you could stay there
for hours, days, weeks,
even a lifetime
and they wouldn't know
you had gone except
for that far away look
in your eyes
and the delay
drawn out by distance
when giving replies,
‘she's stuck
in her own little world’
they would say,
sealing you in
with your hurt.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2024
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