The veins and arteries twist and turn
together entwined as blood rushes.
She wonders if she's really alive,
maybe she's just a mere mass of
flesh and bones.
Flowers die and birds fly away
and she is left all alone in her own little world
of puppets and plastic smiles
and hollow eyes.
"There's more to this world" she says
closing her eyes to the truth.
To what we can't see,
to what we can't hear,
to what we think isn't there,
it lurks in the shadows
and twisted tree branches.
Waiting to pounce and attack.
Reality.
