Circus.

When the flies crawl beneath my eyes
spouting poison with ladybirds piercing,
I'm not sure how to dissect a dream,
cannot locate what it means.

When I'm running from an unknown source
and I find friends mutilated in my name
I cannot change or wake from the vivid dream,
lost in mind fraying at it's seams.

It's the pressure -
inevitable stress
and in twelve days
the stress will be no less
as I board
my first lonely plane
to a destination
with a name like male perfume.
In a wonderland,
some upside down and inside out
wonderland,
with a new blanket of family
and a sudden change of pace.

To say I'm scared would be
comical at least,
I suppose everyone's a jester at heart
I just didn't realise
I was part of the circus.
Tick,
tick,
tick,
another night
unready to sleep.