There was once
a wide-eyed boy.
But then
an ailing sister,
an absent father,
and an autocratic mother
stitched nightmares into childhood,
weaving cobwebs
delicate as innocence,
vicious as deception,
to ensnare the making of a broken man.
When you’ve lived an adult life so long
that childhood feels like a schizophrenic's daydream,
you start to wonder
was he your unfinished dream from a good night,
or were you his worst fear come to life?
Wide-eyed little boys are promises
born in the fever of first infatuation.
But time does not keep promises.
It crushes them,
scatters the fragments,
and buries the remnants deep
behind eyes wide shut.
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