Writing

White and Wonderful

 A hair dryer blasting my face as I go down the snowy s

                 Hidden

                 Locked

      Confined  in chains

I'm not a native Spanish speaker, nor am I fluent (I'm learning it in school), so this may be pretty rough.

Benedict, the bound jester,

Laughing in a world of chains,

Painted smiles, velvet nightmares,

Dancing just to hide the pain.

Bells are ringing, crowds are cheering,

But he hears a different sound,

It’s not the slashes through the timeline, 

Not the practiced cursive

Spelling out names

That we must all know.

It’s the blank in between

Beautiful pink flowers and brown muddy waters

Green bushes and bristles, pushing out from the bank into the sun 

Weeds sprouting out, growing and growing