Sestina

The world outside has such a brittle brain, It cannot comprehend your silent dream. It tries to cure my lovely, singing static, But only in your arms do I feel safe. For in your head you hide a secret lock, And I was born possessing the right key. The doctors gave to me a useless key, A little pill to tranquilize my brain. They hoped inside my thoughts it would place a lock, And sterilize my wild, inventive dream. They do not know you built a fortress, safe From all their cures, from all their hollow static. Your memories hum a low and mournful static, A frequency that is my one true key. We'll build a private kingdom and be safe, Two sovereigns of a conjoined, sovereign brain. At night I'll slip inside your fractured dream, And bolt the door with my own special lock. Let all the sane ones rattle at the lock; Their logic is a dull and artless static. They cannot comprehend our shared, dark dream, They'll never find the shape of our one key. My madness is the warden of your brain, And I will keep its lovely ruins safe. You are the only shelter, ever safe. The world's a room to which you've lost the lock. Come, live inside the palace of my brain, And let my whispers drown the painful static. I am the janitor who holds the key To the most sacred, most exquisite dream. Your trauma is a reoccurring dream. Inside its walls, you'll find you are not safe. But I will hand you a familiar key, To a door on which I've placed a better lock. We'll turn my madness up and call it static, A lullaby to soothe your weary brain. And in that dream, our brains will share a key, find a static safe behind a single lock.