…all of the best people are

Alice waits in her box,
turning no handles,
not eating that “eat me” piece of cake
or that “drink me” poison of unknowns.
she stays in her box
and contains her emotions in another box
in front of her,
like Russian dolls fitting perfectly within the other.
it is all neat and tidy,
like she was taught.
the boxes would remain stacked,
balancing in the shade.
she would hope the order
would keep it all together,
the control would amount to a smile
but it wasn’t until she met all the crazies in Wonderland
that she found her smile,
a few tears too
that flooded the oceans,
but the emotions flew out of the tiny box
like a bat out of hell.
the Queen taught her punishment and rules,
but the Mad Hatter taught her to stop
and smell the roses and speak to the mice.
the Cheshire Cat gave her chills
but reminded her of her own grin.
the Caterpillar questioned her spelling
but showed a whole new perspective.

too many creatures to learn them all in a day,
so she would stay underground
for just a little bit longer.
she’d catch the White Rabbit
one of these days,
but for now she’d fluff her skirts
sit down on the green grass
and breathe it all in.

no mock turtle soup today
but maybe tomorrow she’d dance with the daisies
or maybe they’d eviscerate her again,
who knows,
who cares.
let’s spend this moment in silent peace
with the worries blowing away in the breeze.



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