And So I Built a Ship

I’ve grown tired of happy endings.
Too big for dress up and pretending.
The masks that we live behind become our faces, 
but illusions can’t fill empty spaces.

I went out to my treehouse.
I pulled off all the rope.
Took off all it’s hinges,
And walked away with hope.
I dragged around some logs,
A trail of dirt behind me
As I shrank into the fog
And pretended our river was the sea.

And so I built a ship,
One that wouldn’t wreck.
No matter how loud 
became the voices in my head.
I set sail without a friend,
Leaving everything behind me,
As the boat I built took me past
All the people I would never see 
again.

I waved goodbye to everyone
I never thought I knew.
It felt so wrong to keep holding on
With where I was headed to. 

I never learned how to swim,
I always trusted the boat I was sailing in.
Until one day it sprung a leak
And water swallowed my skin.