Getting Lost, a poem by Olivia Todd at Spillwords.com

Getting Lost

Getting Lost

written by: Olivia Todd

@StoryMinded97

 

I get lost in clothing shops.
Not for a lack of paying attention,
or from inheriting my nan’s
wonky compass genes,
but for the joy of daydreaming.
Lifeless fabric is boring when compared
to a screeching griffin soaring.
A rush of colours rippling past
in rows of rainbow hues.
Scarves morph into a kingdom’s mass of flags.
Poetic lines form
quicker than I can memorise.
My mum emerges around a corner,
her eyes contemplating my demise.
It’s not that I don’t treasure her words—
she’s not been admitted to a care home.
Like a dragon guarding her eggs,
I coil my soul around them.
The reason I struggle to listen is
that I cannot help getting lost
when inventing stories
among a treetop of hangers.

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