girl of country forests
and dusty magical roads
and the calm on hurricane streets
a tint of pink
sitting on maroon carpets
turning pages of a novel dream

her pale hand on an age old paper
bleak ink and words,
pouring an ocean
with her dark brown eyes
penning thoughts
sending letters into the future

writes notes on sticky pads
in a library of broken hearts
where the rule is to stay quiet
to only scream inside
and just like the books she borrowed,
never let herself fall apart

lazy afternoon adventures
seeking rainbows and smiles
barefoot, feeling cold
on play dates with her dog
which apparently talks to her
when the boys in her school won't

now there could have been someone
who made her dream of a heaven somewhere
but he only took her to a really hot place
something 'hell' said a sign before the door
he let go of her hand, pushed her in
returned back and left her there

this was what she had to become
just like this lonely burning place,
she started within her a fire
a fire no one could douse
she burnt her dreams but never
the forest that grew behind her house

for in the forest, she had to burn
pages, words, letters to the boy
she wrote with bleeding ink
until she had burnt
all the dark memories of yesterday
and found her fiery smile in those flames

she couldn't sleep at night
while everyone dreams, her thoughts loom
spells on the poignant calm in the air
something magical, exciting about this darkness
and when she plays with her pretty dark hair
yet still it remains a lonely, desolate room

but even the night passes
a girl, now in love with sunrises
because even those are just the embers
from a burning sun, a million miles away
oh boy, she still loves a beautiful fire
and waits for a boy to burn in her desire

a girl who used to be the calm
has now become a storm
but she keeps reminding to herself
there are souls who still love art and light
so that's why even broken pieces, ashes and fires
can make a beautiful home