When I was little I thought being an adult meant not having a bed time but I’ve come to realize that it just means being in charge of my own bed time and it turns out that I am not equipped to handle that responsibility.
My problem isn’t that
My favourite characters aren’t real;
It’s that I’m not fictional,
I don’t want them to be real,
What I desperately wish
Is that I could be fictional with them,
It’s not that I want them here with me
In this mundane and ordinary world;
It’s that I want to join them
In their extraordinary one.