Grow up.

family friends

I grew up unconscious,
Slipping in and out of fairy-tale comas,
I was possessed by the pipe rather than the Devil.

Oh, it tastes like the trees that grow,
It’s all for the naked eyes that have never seen snow,
For the thorn is only sharp if you hold it like your child,
Like your lost and dying child.

I grew up under covers,
Laughing and smiling about abusive parents,
I was possessed by the pipe rather than the Devil.

Oh, the river spirit flows through my soul,
It loves the way my lungs breathe and groan,
Only when they are running away from home,
Run away from home.

I grew up looking for a cover,
To push my emotions under,
I was possessed by God’s evil hands,
Rather than the Devil.