She breathes like a butterfly: small, stilted wiry breaths, filigree fragile like her wings so easily squashed between a finger and thumb. She breathes on though - all tubes and blinking lights as her chest falls, falls, then rises in defiance against the pale washed walls. She flutters and flits, paper thin limbs … Continue reading Growth/decay
To the girl who grew her hair past her shoulders. There is something about you something I always knew, yet never guessed, dreamt of perhaps but could never imagine how you would dress: heart on your sleeve, golden round, boots and morning blood, you sparkle like dew, a cobweb in sunlight, … Continue reading To the girl
You were a sturdy oak, growing so slowly only listening closely, yielded the creak of bark being stretched by time. Beside you, I was blossoming, a flower reaching her roots into the ground and the hearts of strangers, trying to find purpose in my petals, bursting with firecracker colour stretching toward the sun and stars … Continue reading Blossom
