DAL22-Creations

My inner child is a poor substitute for the angel I was. My inner demon is far stronger than the memories, and I'm sinking faster into the Hell that is the adult realm. Fairytales all have happy endings to their stories, Folklore all have their life lessons to be learned. So why does Disney focus on hope instead of Life? On and on I struggle to find my promised prince, but only find villains wearing disguises instead. More pain to feed the demon slowly eating me away. My inner child's hope the only thing keeping me sustained.

Nothing is left of the place - just the blue prints on our palms. (Summer has a way of ending the world.) They say the house burned one August morning - thirty minutes of sparks and God's glory out on the lawn. The neighbors never even noticed and the firemen all slept in that day. We returned in autumn and combed the yard, trying to remember where the living room had been and what color we painted the kitchen, reminders in the ashes - knots of cat fur where the steps had been told us what we pretended not to know - That leaving is a scathing loss. And memories are best served cold and still.