Like train stations and model airplanes

Are you just sad again with the crumbling walls

and the garden in back that no one knows how

to open the gates of? How many times have things

struck you as heartbreaking when others think

they are childish and light, how many times

does Oz seem filled with unimaginable loss

and every episode of Doctor Who seem at its core

about the impossibility of saving everything,

about the loneliness? And don’t you get it yet

that the stories about fairy kingdoms were

true in their way, all those children stolen

for years, that wasn’t meant to make you

scared, it was meant to give you hope?

And the stories you found most frightening

as a child were the ones about paradise,

the ones where people got to spend one

night there and then woke up having been

gone a hundred years and they would look around

themselves at the world they now belonged to,

and everyone they had ever known was gone,

and everything was different.

You always refused to close

your eyes after those stories, afraid you’d wake

up and might never even notice

the change.

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