The thick two - hundred pages of fairytales and adventure slide down across daisy fingertips, twisting fantasy from current reality and wrapping around you so tightly you cant help but swallow. But the grip is soft, and loose, soft and smooth, your brain can feel the pain, but your body, the love and light these pages wish to show you.When it's time to confess, fantasies are only writing, pieces of material painted with black and dark shadows. Fantasies playing like streetlamps shone up and down blue eyeshadow She dared not think, so she lives in fantasies.
Fantasy is hardly an escape. It just makes things easier to live with, but not always better.
©lexiday
L