At 14 I thought my life was over,
When everyone wanted to be a butterfly
I was happy to stay in my cocoon.
With my books and my music,
I could escape the depravity of my
youth for a tortured beautiful loneliness!
I allowed myself to be explored by the fictional others like an uncharted ocean of unconsciousness where I could have died a thousand times over between pages!
Raped by gorgeous angels and lusty demons of the unimaginable temple of perversion.
I flew between the past and the future on star ships of my own devices.
My motley crew consisted of friends and foes of my choosing
Which I could summon in an instant,
eliminating anyone who disobeyed my command by a cerebral deathray!
The perils of having an overactive imagination could easily trans mutate
Into my plastic world and compel me to act inappropriately in public spaces.
I think I shall call them Freudian faux pases in an e minor,
Maybe in the Intermezzo with air on a g string played with a Stradivarius.
Inspired by a drive by passing comment on my solarbear’s “Interlude”.