I Have Antlers Made of Stories

I have antlers made of stories
That have come from my own head.

These chronicles that catch the eye of those with curious natures

Who define me by what they hear
Solely based on what they see
And take these tales at face value.

But then there are those who want to hunt these traumas
As trophies.
Plucked straight from my brow
And claim the carnage was a credo
For correction.

But I have antlers made of stories
That have come from my own head

Simply for protection.

Because reality is what hurt me the most in the first place

So I let fiction evolve
To be my horns.

And I know one day they’ll shed
And leave a trail of where I’ve been

But until that time comes

I’ll wear this crown

And hope I can start living

A life worth believing.