I had a dream that I got lost in my hometown.
Streets and avenues that wound around me,
like stems of poisonous flowers,
were dark and alien.
I was in the heart of a city
where I didn’t belong.
Panic streamed down my back in sweaty beads.
I tried to find a way home on a unicycle
that I wasn’t able to ride.
Suffocating, I looked around
hoping to see a friendly face, a familiar face;
but the hostile wrinkled masks that ran past
shed no light on my surroundings.
I tried a mask on myself.
Every line on my face was a gossip that someone else told,
was an impact of someone else’s words.
I walked further on, hoping to escape that madness,
searching for an exit from that lie.
A butterfly flew by, fluttering its wings with a strength of a tornado.
It had only one day to live.
With my dry fingers, I caught it,
and it begged me to set it free,
so I tore it in half
and woke up.
Author: Lada Redley
Lada Redley draws inspiration from her travels, experiences, and the people in her life. She writes both prose and poetry, and has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Westminster, London. You can follow Lada’s adventures on Instagram: @ladaredley.