Taylor Fox
Chameleons
Strange dreams occupy the waking minds
of wayward children slinking along
in chameleon skin.
Brilliant flashes of blues and greens
conceal the obsidian shell that houses
their counterfeit grins
and shields their vacant eyes
from a world that knows only
how to seek perfection
absent of happiness –
progress absent of
growth.
Seeking shelter
in the superficial
trappings of success,
they define their self-worth
through numbers on scales and transcripts
and give up the control they so desperately craved.
/ because how easy it was to be young and restless and alive and free /
And when that quest for existence
dulled into a hollow search
for suffering
and the scales on their backs
were shed in atonement to a higher power,
scattered in a metaphysical sea
of lost opportunity
they then realized that being
everywhere at once
was really
nowhere
at all.
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