County Road, Take Me Home

I tripped over some daisy's,
while looking for the poppy field.

My expectations have always gotten the best of me,
but these past few months have created a solar flare.

An internal dialogue,
an external diatribe. 

Wiggling which way,
I stop to ask the milkman for directions.

He glares at me,
wood tip cigar dangling from his lip,
as he sticks out his hitch hiking thumb,
towards the way I already traveled.

There is no yellow brick road for this queen.

In it's place is a path of broken glass.

I'm just glad I wore my shoes today.

Shuffling through the chaos,
I manage to reach the garden.

I can feel those sinister trees,
writhing in anger,
gripping their apples,
ready for battle.

I close my eyes,
and walk in any direction my body takes me.

I let go of any fear,
doubt,
or anxiety,
and trust that I will end up,
exactly where I belong.

As I take my last step,
I exhale calmly,
and open my eyes.

I have arrived.

The silver city.

Not much paint,
nor glitter,
is left on the old town.

It's charm long lost,
but I am home.

Free from the dangers of myself.

Isolated by choice.