inner child

its different on the inside
without the rocky exterior
without the bravado
beneath exoskeleton still intact
hidden amongst reflective surfaces
like fun house mirrors
dripping moments hanging like crystals
from cavernous walls
hinting unspoken words like sighs
its different on the inside
within sky high walls
where she frames her wishes like family
to hang in endless hallways
declarations of desires
where sarcasm softens
welcome mats leave footprints of vulnerability
leading onto a pathway
hardly remembered but cherished
treasure maps leads through
hundreds of locked doors, up and into
her childhood hiding place
its different on the inside
far away from the scars left
from piercing words
glimpsed only when her eyes become
crescent moons of sea water
days like this
when the outside world offers little sentiment
when understanding is skewed to illegible graffiti
spraypainted onto the back of her eye lids
its different on the inside
where love is kept safe from harm
and warmth washes over
like a low tide
lapping around ankles
without any deterrent to dreaming