elise.writer

Each flitting fractal of darkened gray
Almost but not quite black
Flashes in a hollowed brightness
At just the right angle

Blurry blotches of fatigued white
Sprout from a dotted canvas
Of everyday softened gray

Believing in magic is the most wonderful thing
Like there could truly be a possibility to be swept away
And ride on the backs of dragons like in the fables

Then again, fables are just fables

Through the first ten years of so
When birthdays mingled just around the corner
Streamers and balloons cluttered the colored room
Giggles and smiles beaming as bright as the sunshine
Filling the space with joy

I remember
When the constellations twinkled
Hidden lines drawn between the brightest and the lightest
Like a tunnel, whispering unspoken truths
Joy hidden between flickering candles of the night

Each yearning and suffering

And I waste just another minute

Delving through stacks and layers of memories
Wondering if they were ever real
Or are a mere teaser of time
When true opportunities of love and joy
Twisted into treetops and tears peek out

Press your palms against your eyes hard enough
The bright blue beams obscuring your vision
Little lilies and lavenders will blossom from the depths of darkness

Happiness is woven between paisleys and daisies