My eyes dart about as if they were butterflies.
It is a dark tunnel compared to the morning glow.
I’m falling down a rabbit’s hole,
bitter curiosity stings my tongue.
I reach for the light
and find the outstretched hand of Brandon Long,
the boy from Junction City, Kansas
who once said ‘Crazy is perfect.’
I grasp his hand and stop.
His eyes are empty and cold.
Wind whistles through my ears,
the smell of damp earth and tea make its way through my nostrils.
All I hear is emptiness.
I slip,
and he lets go.
The sharp stroke of both indifference and fascination
cross my mind as I continue to fall.
A rabbit appears, painting the air with the dust of stars,
prancing along through the darkness,
a little beacon of light left in his wake.
Maybe next week or next month or next year
the tunnel won’t be so dark.
Maybe even the tiniest of humans could catch a glimpse
at the rocks that dance and sing below.
In order to escape the rabbit hole I must let go.
The muddy bottom is within sight and as I brace myself for impact
a whirlwind of brightly colored butterflies
lifts me out of the darkness
and back into the glow of a sunset.


About returntoneverland

All around procrastinator, screw-up extraordinaire.
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