she was made
of tender things;
treads of gold,
and silvered strings,
with little bones
and broken wings,
buttons, pins,
and rusty springs
~
her mind was filled
with little dreams;
to be a queen,
a crown to gleam,
a rainbow bridge
out into space,
a quiet room
to hide her face
~
too delicate
for this world;
a tiny bed,
with a tiny girl,
who's window felt
like iron bars,
so she left her body
and went to the stars
~
no longer small,
no longer frail,
no longer sadness,
and wicked tales,
out in the stars
she burns so bright,
a golden glimmer
lights up the night