As a child, one can use the imagination.
Now older, only using the ability
to reach the level of satisfaction.
When time was younger,
when her head wasn't as strong,
she created her own world,
knowing it wouldn't last for long.
This was the place you called home
escaping from reality.
She tries everyday
to return to the fantasy.
So silent,
that when she was
younger, there were hidden secrets
she kept.
Promises so sure,
that once they break
they were no longer pure.
Now she is in pieces,
Still a child at heart,
still finding it's own innocence.
How it was lost,
no one knows,
but her passion
for the reason grows.
Jessica Garcia