Mornings are for yearning, staring out the window in a world of fantasy. Make believe scenarios and hallucinated lies that comfort my mind. Taking me far away from whre I lie.

But its never enough, and no dream induced state last forever. Reality always creeps back in through the cracks of the walls I built in my fragile outsite shell. Breaking down everyone who sees me, passes me, glances near me, knowing I am judged by them for what I really am… a child, a scared unborn soul with no direction to be. So they always stare and judge for the unknown they do not understand.

Again I begin, building my defenses, the wall once again will stand. For this time, though, more beautiful and tall. So the next time I crash hopefully it will be behind my wall.