Repressed

I am obviously hiding.
I try to find the forest inside the book so I
Can rediscover the mists where I dreamed I
Was not fictional.
I haven't yet found that familiar path I
Carved through the paper and roots I
Left behind.

I am clearly hiding.
I wish to discover a fountain with a gurgle I
Can capture with cupped palms so I
Can be reassured.
I walk among the wisps of light I
So dearly wish to be seen by but I
Flicker.