shivalihp

You came to me in a dream last night, as curious and full of life as the day I met you on the playground. 

It was the first week of preschool and I had no friends, mostly because I chose not to.

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” 
— Friedrich Nietzsche

I saw someone

In the airport. 

it's cold

the mornings freeze our words to our lips as we pore

over homework, plastic boxes of brightly dyed sugar cereal

waiting for february. it's gray

we haven't gone out for recess in forever, summer sun

I wonder what kind of mind lies behind those big brown eyes,  

behind her laugh, which makes the sweetest souls swoon, 

behind her smile, infectious and sugar sweet. 

yet through it all, 

note: this is not targeted at anyone, it’s just my opinion :)

Writing is my pulse,  
my breath,  
my way of being.  
They don’t own my words,  
my thoughts,  
my voice.