MY OWN PRIVATE NEVERLAND...
People who know me, who think they know me well. Know me only a little and then maybe a little less. For how can they know me, when they have never ventured inside my head?
For when I think of how they must see the world, in all its plain and tedious light. I wonder how they would cope, with the world inside my head. The one of ever flowing sentences and the buzzing of words; the tales of lost romance and the death of a friend.
The constant harassing of stories to be told, makes it's hard to strip the fact from the fiction. To know what is real and what is façade.
When the only way for peace, is to simply write it all down, to see the lives of others form clarity before my eyes. But it is not quite that easy, as they all push for escape. To invade this world, that is real from the cage of my mind. So many, all at once, it is hard to believe that all this noise resides in only my head.
These little voices screaming for a voice of their own, so above all this burden, my own thoughts lay forgotten for the day when they're gone and silence is to be found. Till another voice speaks up and the hush of my thoughts are gone with the wind.
The pen in hand I write again, imagination taking over. My dreams lay in wake for the day they are needed, when who needs dreams when another world lays here in my pen.
I wonder if people can see this make believe land. Is it there in my eyes when I am there in my head, surrounded by characters yet to be said?
Though they are there, a weight on my chest, I could not live without this world. For I love those dear times alone up in my head. Where things are all mine and nothing can change for I hold the key in the hand that holds this pen.
And for now I am finished with this tale that is mine, for now I can hear another whisper from who wishes to break free. And who am I to deny, for the joy that it brings, to see it all set down in front of me, another story told and the next one to begin.