Obsession

I'm obsessed. This time it's so annoying.

Give me some lilies, and a well-scented peaceful corner.
I want to write, I want to disappear.
Routines, they're boring aren't they?
I'm seeing these faces,
but I see the reflection of mine in theirs.
Looking for an answer,
deep down their enthusiastic eyes.
I feel like stopping.
It's scary, isn't it?
Time's ticking and not knowing where to go,
is just as bad as not having the courage
to say it's tiring.
Smiles are for the pretenders.
Tears are way cooler.
But no I can't, can I?
The guards will be disappointed.
Those little guys,
whom I feed every now and then.
And what about the pretty castle
that takes years to build?
It's pretty, isn't it?
Oh, look at the ornament.
A masterpiece I'd say.
Perfection,
for my very own admiration.
I'm not letting anyone in.
The guards will push them away
even before they reach the main gate.
But what is happiness when it's never shared?
What's perfection if imperfection is more realistic?
Right, we're back at that peaceful corner again.
The lilies are here,
and they're well-scented.
My obsession is still here,
I can't distract myself enough.
Maybe next time I should try to fly.
Or jump.
Or run away.
Or, I don't know.
Maybe find another peaceful corner
where I can be friends,
good friends,
with my own self.