Not Alone

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He said I wasn't the only one who knew.
He said that others could see.
I believed him.
I told my family, my friends, my teachers,
anyone I could, looking for another,
looking for someone like me.
I showed them the wings he had left behind,
the tiny footprints in the dust on my windowsill.
Everything was dismissed.
I insisted, pointing to him when he decided to show up,
laughing when he danced with his eyes closed,
crying when he would fly away,
leaving me alone with people that couldn't see.

Five years have passed, and I really like the sheets here.
The food's pretty good,
the nurses are nice.
I see my parents every Saturday,
I hear them ask if I'm doing any better this week.
The answer is always the same,
but they ask anyways.
He visits me much more here, my fairy.
More than he ever did when I lived at home.
And as I sit on my soft bed, with my nice sheets,
he flutters around my room,
dancing to screams of the insane.





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