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I like to think of my mind as a box
Locked to all but the beholder of the key
painted carelessly with thick black paint
bursting at the seems with secrets
longing to be told
searching endlessly for the person to tell them to
The person who can etch away the thick black paint
the person who can reveal the rainbow hidden in the blackness
the person with the key
to my lock
my box
my mind
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There is a secret land.
That I go to when I'm sad
when I'm hurt
when I'm blue
There is a land of refuge
a land of all things true

a land without homelessness
anorexia
war
a land without parents
who just walk out the door

a land without labels
or pretenders
or fakes
a land that doesn't care
when you make simple mistakes

a land without broken promises
broken hearts
broken spirits
broken anything.

I have a dream
that this land will come true
and everything will be perfect
for me and for you
but that dream is a sketch in the sand
the waves will soon wash away this land

but this land will exist forever in my mind
as the place I can go to leave everything behind
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