Pieces

Butterflies tremble

And I don’t want to be a giant anymore

You say goodnight

But you are not ready yet

I always remember my dreams

I howl when I realise

I am only half that girls’ potential

And she is not trying to reach me

The waltz continues

As her hair is pulled back

Spiralling and howling soon mending

Every crack in the mismatched tiles

I won’t tell another soul

And in the moment, everything is always hard to say

My worried, grim look of pain

Is when wandering in my mind begins again

Let the prophet know

How the fireworks exploded any noise away

The juices of joy too intoxicating

Splendid enough to force us into leapings over clouds

As we braved our fates with swords of hope

I already miss my days free of eighteen pomegranate seeds

Bursting into vipers who whisper all my dreams to the dandelions.

~