flaneusepoetique:

Honesty, Bare.

I have lost my words

in an ocean of certainty,

reality grounding my every move.

There is something about you

that has its roots in fantasy

as if you yourself are fairy tale, myth.

And the worst, and truest part,

is that holding your book in my hands,

the solidity of the cover betrays a truth:

You aren’t just a story.