The Golden Hour
I look like my soul is from another place, another world, a different mentality. I don't understand it, this isolation and agitation of unfamiliarity. Keep me here. I’m not sure I want to return wherever I left, whatever story I left behind. Isn't this time golden? I keep thinking to myself I am alone in the aura of my mindset, trapped in the ribbed cages of an idea of self. Trapped in a golden hour holden on to whatever sanity I find I have left.
The golden smile, its the one I gave right after I break, its a fixed position in time to remind me, that I have a star in me to do whatever it takes, i’m a golden hour. Out of time, fleeting into the twilight of Oberon and his mystery of misery