Amongst the hedges.

You only see what you want to,under the dark lining of it all.
You only speak in parables. I can barely speak at all.
I once knew you, in the dark corners of my mind.
I could close my eyes and hear you. As loud as the music in my ears.
But something happened.As it all spiralled out of control.
You see there was this little girl.With a precious mind of her own.
She had her own thoughts and they were hers to loan.
But something happened.With each thought she told.
And somewhere in the demon view. It all just faded in the night.
You know it will never be right.
Lets not sweep it under a rug.
Or paint it a pretty pink.
An ugly stain is an ugly stain.
Once you write it..It’s written in ink.
You may call me stuborn..Or any other names.
But I know who the little girl blames.
Maybe she is folly. IT is another story with another plot.
But I have saught her out..And I assure its not.

Back in the times of ribbons and hair of gold.
She smelled so sweet.
she was soft.
I can remember the way it felt to touch her hair and whisper her stories as she made up another line.
But you have stolen her innocence and it will never be mine.
I wish that she can be whole again.That her wounds will and it will be alright.
But this is the beginning of her story. And another lost night.
I wish I could hold her but she got lost amongst the hedges.
Every thing got so blurry. Lost edges.
I wish I can explain it line for line.
But it is just another glass slipper.
It is another frog instead of a prince.
And I am pretty sure.
That she is me.
And I am pretty sure..That you are him.
You might of been her imaginary friend.
A sweet play thing that promised the earth.
Never realizing it was a lie you were weaving.
Too young to be so concieving.
But maybe you meant to line for line.
I once thought you were you and that was mine.
But i see you for what you really are.
It makes me so very sad.
BUt as I said before…But this is the beginning of her story. And another lost night.
I wish I could hold her but she got lost amongst the hedges.
Every thing got so blurry. Lost edges.
I wish I can explain it line for line.
But it is just another glass slipper.
It is another frog instead of a prince.
And I am pretty sure.
That she is me.
And I am pretty sure that you are him.