drink me (insane)

Give me a little taste,
Drink me up,
And let me get lost in the haze of the smoke the caterpillar blows my way,
Because I need to get lost, need to fall down that hole and let the white rabbit chase me until the clock runs in
circles around us,
Watch me fall apart,
Drink out of that cup of madness and talk to the mice that pours more than sugar,
I can’t make sense of this feeling,
In wonderland I won’t have to,
Because we’re all mad here, so who among us will point of the logic in a perplexing question,
Maybe I’ll look different thought the looking glass,
More refined, or more sane, or maybe even more of the girl you thought you loved,
But she sought this, remember that; wanted to fall down and down,
To try and make sense of queens without hearts and men who hide their true intentions under pretty head cases
Anything to find why they locked her tears in a bottle, why they said I wasn’t worth the time they could never give,
I want to drink up the madness, let it consume me,
And then maybe I’ll understand that lost allure of the people outside of wonderland.

in(sanity) awe and wonder(land)

Alice drank until her size matched her heart,
Or rather the Queens,
But that’s the only way to make it Wonderland, isn’t it?
To become everything you never knew possible?
To fall into another persons madness and come out with a grain of sanity?
The story has been told so many times,

I’m not sure who knows its origins, or even the truth as to where it all began,
But I do know Alice is who I wish to be,
Wrapped up in insanity and the impossible and the hubris of a Queen who cared not of her people,

Encompassing everything Wonderland had to offer,
And we all know Wonderland is full of nothing short of the imagination,
And the wonder is much darker than we wish to admit,
Because that’s the excitement of looking glass,
The reflections of everything we wish could act of,
That forbidden desire and those taboo sins,
And not a soul to question our intentions or morals.

Alice and Little Red

I wonder if Alice and little red knew each other,
Would they have been friends?
Fascinated by the stories each told,
The lure of danger and the attract of insanity,
The big bad wolf,
Lingering in the woods, ready to pounce at the sight of innocent little red,
Or maybe it’s the allure of that haze
Maybe of a dream or two,
Where each new dream brings a whole new fantasy,
High of the smoke and
And whatever is laced in the tea that keeps appearing in your cup,

I wonder if Alice and Little Red would laugh at stories they told,
How each couldn’t make sense of the others fantasies,
So they imagined a greater story outside themselves,
The true heroes in a tale they couldn’t see the bigger picture,
Or…

Would their tales take a turn,
Horror laced with lust,
Nothing more exciting than the taboo, than wanting what you could never have…
Temptation knows both Alice and little red,
Very, very well in fact,
Have you heard what happens when you get lost in the woods, while the moon is high?
Or the allure of chaos in a cup? Of a land filed with the danger of wonder?
I wonder if they would have been friends…
Alice and Little red….

Down, in a Rabbit (w)hole

Alice chose to fall down with the rabbit, to be lost to the madness of wonderland.
I refuse to give into insanity, the grief of maddens and depravity,
For an unsound mind will never sway a righteous heart,
Oh, but how naïve I was. Fairy-tales are always much darker than depicted,
Wonderland was but a blessing to my chaotic mind,
A trick Alice must have learned from her beloved Hatter.

The looking glass cuts so deep that the Cheshire cannot help but grin,
And the clock begins to tick as crazy and mindless as the minutes that do not pass.
Half past Tea Time, the liquid spills unto the saucer.
So sing with the roses and tulips and lilies,
A song so deadly, the Duchess clings to her crying babe, Alice shuts her ears tight.
Lets hope they don’t smother you in their lyrical game,
For the flowers here in Wonderland are as deadly as their Queen.
And we have all seen how thick and red the blood that flows from the castle.

The march Hare hops through the woods to the Queen of Hearts,
Who controls the sane so invested in their game of fatality,
But how sane are those trapped in the rapture of a psychotic game?
So toss the ball into the maze and run to find it,
Love is but a game to these people, but,
The caterpillar’s smoke will foresee the effects of the idiocy,
And dear sweet Alice will paint herself red to fool herself into belonging,
But we all know how that house of cards falls.

So when the dream becomes to real, and the magic of the land fades,
You will find Alice hidden in the leaves she once sought refuge in,
But no longer do they hold a sense of escape and enchantment,
For the darker effects of the magic have taken hold,
The curious and the curiouser, damned by Alice and her need to find the impossible,
But my dear, breakfast was put a meal away, I was sure of it.
With a cup of tea, you will find no better solution for the rotting of you brain.

Our dear sweet Alice will forever straddle the line,
Between Wonderland and whatever this life has become,
Forever trapped in knowing the sense of wonder and irrationality,
The thrill of knowing she will never touch that sense of madness again.
Wonderland is meant for those who had given into the darkest desires of their mind,
And whose heart could not stomach the choices insanity had left to give.
So I fall down the rabbit hole by choice,
After all, Alice made it back safe and sound…well most of her, anyways.

 

*Image not mine*