Crossing the road
When I was eight years old,
I was sure that cars would stop
At the little girl in red.

From the other side,
The stretch seems like forever;
Running fast from something,
Or someone I wasn't sure of.

Mom would scold,
Friends would shout cold;
Warm gustling winds,
Passing swiftly was home.

Crossing the road,
Now I'm twice as old,
I'm sure the car didn't miss me,
Because I missed it instead.

When we made a pact,
Only between you and me;
That we’ll see all the colors
That our eyes could see


The picnic days were pink,
From the cotton candy that we eat,
Saw yellow bliss in your smile,
As you saw the dandelions bloom by.


I saw orange in sunsets;
While in the solace of your embrace,
Every month had purple,
From the violets and lavenders you gave.


And then you came home.
With red lipstick on your face;
It was pouring, dark and grey,
Then I knew the blues are coming our way.

When half became more,
Than one over nothing else,
Whole yet undefined.

Silver flakes tarnish,
She left for gold; all along,
He was platinum.

One flight higher,
One step up.

Two eyes would meet,
One will surrender.

Right foot step,
Left heel back.

Straight to the darkness,
Fell head over heels.

One step higher,
One slip up.

Falling in pieces ,
Faking broken smiles.

Feet forward,
Pride stares back.

No stairway drama,
Just a storybook end.

Brought up by fate,
As miracles from the carcasses remain;
Melted down by the Sun,
Heavily molded by the suffocation of none.

She grew up with nothing else,
Than the ever-burning star for company;
Void of everything but hope,
For the foreign feeling of being wanted.

The allusion from the radiation,
Made her dream of heraldic luminescence;
To be a necessity for existence,
And finally find the purpose of her own.

As the darkness hover over,
Comes the dejection of the recognition;
That a shooting star like her,
Was meant to crash and burn eventually.