Love was caught up.
Tangled upon a strand of nylon string.

I used to dream of ribbons.
Pink ones.

Pretty sickly dolls house ones.

He got a knife.
A silver dagger.

I remember that day so well.
I think I always will.

Balloons full of helium.
Breathed in the vapours.

Full of a squeaky whispers.
The squeaky whispers grew and grew.

Still he couldn't hear me, maybe he just didn't want to.

Lived in a world of his own.
A number of miles from mine.

(C)Livvi