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Fairytales

When I was little. I ran away into books and adventures. The spines broken and flapped a little.

The rough paper and off white color I knew so well. The smell that would surround me. I would be the hero of my own story.

Fantasy would become reality when reality was hell. Life was better with a book. Villains could be destroyed and good always prevailed.

I loved an alternate reality where my imperfections didn’t bother nobody. Where thundering words didn’t shake the house.

When I wasn’t scared of anyone leaving or hurting anyone else. Of doing something wrong that would mess it all up. When I had my book it fixed it all

Travel

I want to travel

I want to touch the stars

See the world from up above 

Watch 7 billion people living among the dark 

I want to touch the bottom of the sea 

To see ALL the things I can see 

I want to land on the mountains 

Feel like I’m 10ft tall 

I want to see the dessert 

To see even when you feel like your nothing your still sparkly and pretty and precious 

I want to see the sequoias 

Climbing higher than a beanstalk into the sky 

I want to see the world and live like I’m never gonna die