I put my lips together and gently blow out air,
Blowing the dust off of a little brown antique box,
I drag my fingers across the top to inspect it,
Dusty thing I found sitting on the floor in my closet.
I tip it upside down and shake left to right,
Having to guess I just get all the more curious,
A padded lock on the front, "Where's the key?"
Scrambling in the drawers I find nothing like it.
I'm probably meddling in something I shouldn't,
I seldom follow the advice I tell myself anyways,
I walk up the foot steps to my gigantic fluffy bed,
Flick off the beaded lamp sitting next to my bed,
I feel tuckered out as my eyes slowly start to close,
Too pooped to even poop, my mind is starting over,
Every-night I look forward to drifting off to sleep,
To dream about impeccable things; the flawless.
A dainty light blue paint covering these four walls,
Laying in a bed that is surely not one of my own,
A bed with large posts and a Egyptian cotton cover,
Fluffy frilly things following the edges of my pillow.
Clouds all around me, even on the blue ceiling,
Buttons for stars in the spaces to space the clouds,
Not equally, but not too far apart from each other,
Sparkly and glistening as the sun shines through.
I rub my head and throw off the silky comforter,
And place my feet on the cold dark wooden floor,
Black ballet shoes and lovely long white stockings,
I look in the mirror and see a black ribbon in my hair.
A black ribbon with white buttons and a button flower,
"What kind of place did I wonder off too now?"
Buttons of the front of my pure golden brush,
I twist it within my fingers trying to captivate the designs.
I place it back down on my buttoned up desk,
Placing one foot slowly in front of the other one,
And walk out of the dainty blue enclosed room,
Even the trim work on around the ceiling are buttons.
Buttons every where, "where'd I let my senses go?"
I tip toe around twirling my dress around in circles,
Until I find the front door to the button land I dreamed,
"This has to be a dream, this can't be a reality."
My poetical pie-in-the-sky with button berries,
A peculiar vivid vision reflection in my eyes,
Buttons for flowers, a button garden; brick walls,
Pebble stones and button dirt, I twirl around more.
I twirl and twirl, "I finally did it, I escaped my life"
I stand on my tip toe and bow down to the butterflies,
The fairies that fly around my head; through my hair,
The button outdoors, "this is such a beautiful button world."
