I don’t know why

my dreams have teeth

and my thoughts have claws.

I don’t know why

my wonderings have warp drives

and my musings armed with lasers.

Maybe escapism was hammered into my soul

when my skin and mind were abused.

Maybe alien worlds and elven forests

were better than a home here on Earth.

All I know is

I’m tired of making excuses

for the bizarre sheen of my imagination.

I won’t apologize anymore for the teeth and lasers.

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