Shake me awake from this dream.
I scream.
The colors of your hate blending.
Everything bright combined,
is black.
Waiting for the tears of time,
the signs of a broken life,
to make their movie about me.

As the feather floats down, down down
from the crystal sky,
I see your stories in the distance.
And I wait for the floods of fire,
the hearse of love,
to make their movie about me.

Snowing, hailing, raining.
The glass of a broken vase.
The bend in the road blocking the end forever.
Mending your laughter,
and waiting for the veiled songs in all thoughts,
the diamond fruits of resolution,
to make their movie about me.

I wait.

Standing lone and lost and speaking
only what I say.
Looking for your unhinged focus.
The kryptonite in your valentine
sends my sun into the waves,
and I lose the board on which I rode your lies.

Surprise.
The lost look in your eyes.
And I lay my head in the clouds,
waiting for the rope of Neverland
to make their movie about me.

Into the silence.
Losing to tyranny.
Her schoolchildren lost.
And innocent words unspoken.
We leave this amity broken.
And we land right back where we began,
walking with Alice through Wonderland.