SEVEN

 

there must be a point at which disillusionment comes to an end
and everywhere you look reality lets you know it’s there.
not the fear of what reality could or couldn’t be
but the reality of reality.

 

what a terrifying thought.

that we may one day find ourselves so unimaginative.
but worse that i might never make it there.
you whisper in my ear/ stroking back my hair: babe, look at our mothers disillusioned to the grave. it happens to the best of us.