Dear mom.

At one time, you hung every star in the sky.
You walked on water and you never told lies.
But look at us now.
Now that I can see the wood work
and every rotting plank that creates
our pirate ship of wasted days.

Days that used to be so beautiful.
Full of once upon a times
and other obscure lies
that taint every second of my past.

Watch how it all tumbles down.
Faster than any london bridge
or talking egg I've heard of.

They claim that ignorance is bliss.
Perhaps it is.

But in the end, the truth bleeds out.
Onto your pretty little story times.
And there is no happily ever after.

Just a world full of people
I will always love,
even when it does me no good
and they prove to me the grotesque
of such reality.

Sometimes I feel like sleeping
for a hundred years.
Just to see if anything will change.

But even though life is pain,
there is beauty in the way
that tomorrow is brand new.

And I refuse to miss a single sunset
that paints such promise in the sky.
I will learn to play this game of spades,
and avoid all the hand made graves
that will always plague my mind.

Those sand castles we used to build
will wash away to leave this guilt
behind.

Now they are only lost at sea.

But all will heal with surf and time,
and the childhood I left behind,
will simply have to do.