Imaginary

An inner narrative.

When I was a child 
Before beginnings had ends 
I dreamt in fantastical theatrics,
Invented imaginary friends 

A Creator of worlds 
Weird with whimsy and wit
I controlled winds of feeling,
Penned the end to each script —

And then a shock scorched the earth 
Ribbon ripped, unclean cut 
A severed finger still beating
Waiting to be sewn up  

And I’m filled with the spirit
I revise and revere it 
But I heard you don’t hear it 
And so I unsteer it 
Into the darkness 
Immaculate interference 

I slam shut fate’s gate
A bus takes me away  

Back is turned
Facts are straight 
Time bled through
Pinpricked grates 

But the weight of 
The wait 
Smacks my face
I disengage

And the years, they span styles 
And all middles have ends 
I unseal ghosts from shadows,
And grieve imaginary friends 

©Rachel Nasatka. All rights reserved. You can’t have her she’s mine.