Why didn’t they tell you

to straighten your necklace?

Grown up children back then;

they evolved only on the outside.

Porcelain dreams in your vapid gaze;

I wonder why they were broken.

Was it black and white back then?

Was it bleak and weak in your dreams?

Before the heaps of hurdles

were thrown at you;

before all the shattered

windows (for your escape);

when your dreams collided into the

wall and your thoughts were thrusted.

You never allowed yourself anything;

 flowers nipped by the frost.

I can smell your disappointment;

your regret lingers as you loiter.

Unmoved. Removed. I disapprove

of your unintentional episodes.