As a child I had imaginary friends that were a part of my real life.
As an adult they have grown with me and we still talk.
You may have to ask them for my wedded hand or contractual business plan.
I ask them if you're a real friend, my night and shining armor man, or if this interaction is forced by my flesh that'll convert into a lesson.
I believe in humanity but there's nothing like my imaginary friends.
I say I'm a loner and enjoy quiet nights at home but the truth is I'm technically not alone.
Why is it a secret...well what would the world think? They already thing I'm crazy recommending a shrink.
PTSD makes you create a new world no one can see.
My imaginary friends became my family, my serenity.
Was it the Holy Spirit disguised walking beside thee or are they really just different forms of me?
Either way they are loving, loyal, proven tried and true.
They aren't jealous when I connect with someone real.
There ultimate goal is to have someone take their place, so that I experience loves touch for real.
They'll never abandon me but take extended stays
to allow for that touch feel of cotton, the fabric of our lives.
Where do they live?
Under my bed.
They come out to listen to my day
Or have dance crave parties in the mirror with a brush and hair spray.
They age with me which means we'll perish together.
I wonder if they'll have children so they can play with mine during life's stormy weather.
My imaginary friends
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